


up and down and side to side

by crushing83



Series: The Adventures of Stellah Stardust [3]
Category: Bitten (TV), RuPaul's Drag Race RPF, Teen Wolf (TV), Women of the Otherworld - Kelley Armstrong
Genre: Alpha Nick Sorrentino, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Antonio is a shit disturber but he's on Derek's side, Clay is on Stiles' side, DemiPan Stiles Stilinksi, Demisexual Stiles Stilinski, Derek Has Issues, Derek has doubts, Drag Queen Nick Sorrentino, Drag Queen Stiles Stilinski, Drag Race preparations, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Full Shift Werewolves, Future Fic, I don't mean to offend anyone, I have no idea what I'm doing, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, McCall Pack, McCall Pack is no longer Stiles' pack, Mentions of various Drag Queens, Mild Angst, Pack Dynamics, Pronoun Switching, RUber, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles feels pressured, Stiles is a contestant on RuPaul's Drag Race, and his attraction isn't defined by gender or sex, borrowing characters from Bitten, discussion of McCall Pack, full shift werewolf, he doesn't feel physical attraction unless he has an emotional connection first, no more bromance between Stiles and Scott, not really religiously sticking to the Bitten or Otherworld canon, only read through a couple times, possible OOC situation, possible out-of-character-ness, pushy female character, rushed writing, seriously, some werewolves can't take a hint, something happened between Stiles and Scott, things have happened, vague discussion of character death, vague discussion of past events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushing83/pseuds/crushing83
Summary: Stiles prepares for his first day on set as Stellah Stardust. Meanwhile, Derek experiences doubt and anxiety; Nick tries to be the supportive alpha he believes Derek needs.
Relationships: Cora Hale/Nick Sorrentino, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Adventures of Stellah Stardust [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1355965
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	up and down and side to side

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. We are now entering the area of the story series where I'm using those "10 things you don't know about RPDR" articles, anything I could find on Reddit or in YT interviews, and my own assumptions. So, there's a 200% chance I'm wrong about any and all show-related events. I hope you'll be able to put that aside and join me as I try to continue this universe.  
> 2\. I have no idea about style---or about what might be stylish or trendy in drag (and in general) by the time Stiles is in this competition.   
> 3\. RuPaul is probably (definitely) OOC. I'm using a Vanity Fair article and a couple of interviews as reference, but I am completely out of my element.   
> 4\. I have no idea how to buy or sell a building.   
> 5\. I'm pretty sure I've managed to stick to the story's canon, but I can't keep rereading every time I have a "did I mention [something]?" moment. I'm trying my best to make sure my notes are up to date, but things get missed.   
> 6\. I really hope you give this story a try.

"Mister Stilinski?"

Stiles turned away from the baggage carousel and looked at the man who had approached him. He didn't look like a producer---not that Stiles knew, at all, what producers should look like, but his plaid shirt and dirty jeans seemed like they'd be more at home in the forest or on a farm---and there was something a little too easy in the way he moved. His first guess was  _ werewolf _ , and he realised he was correct in his assumption when the man flashed his yellow eyes. 

"My name is Robbie Owens and I'm not here to cause problems," he said, in response to Stiles' stiffening and leaning back and away from him. "My alpha is Libbey Reese, and she asked me to make sure you landed and got your bags---as a favour to Alpha Sorrentino." 

Stiles relaxed. "Oh. Sorry. Formative years, wolves coming to town causing trouble---"

"Say no more," Robbie interrupted. "I get it. Really." He broke eye contact with Stiles to scan the crowds. "Are you waiting for someone?" 

"Yeah… there's supposed to be people here for me," Stiles replied. 

"In the know?" 

Shaking his head, Stiles said, "No, not as far as I'm aware." 

"For work?" Robbie asked. 

"Sort of?" Stiles told him. He smiled and shrugged. "I'm not really supposed to talk about it. Signed a non-disclosure agreement."

Robbie snorted. "Welcome to Hollywood," he joked. Then, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to Stiles. "If you need anything, my name and number's on there. Libbey's number is on the back, too." 

Stiles took the card and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. "Thank you---and please thank your alpha, too," he said. "I appreciate you coming to meet me, and your alpha allowing me to visit your city." 

"No need to be formal. There are three packs in the area, ours and two smaller packs. They tend to keep to themselves and let us handle territory business, but they pitch in when they can," Robbie explained. "There's a big transient population, between the entertainment industry and schools, so we know there are others running around. We can't police everyone." 

"Still… I wouldn't have pushed it if you'd said 'no,'" Stiles said. 

Robbie nodded. "We know," he said. "We appreciate being informed. Especially since you're going to be here for more than a week."

"I promise not to deliberately cause trouble---but, Mom used to call me 'Mischief,' so you should know that sometimes trouble finds me." 

After a laugh, Robbie nodded again. He pointed to a trio of people, one of whom was holding a sign with Stiles' family name written on it in glittering ink. 

"I think they're your people," he said. He extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mister---"

"Call me Stiles. Please." 

Robbie beamed at him, taking Stiles' hand as it was offered to him and giving it a firm squeeze and a shake. They started to separate, but Robbie froze in a way that meant his werewolf senses picked up on something that required assessing. Stiles had seen more than one werewolf pause like that, taking a moment to expand their senses (or their realisation of what they were processing), and he felt himself tensing in preparation for some sort of action. 

"It's fine, it's fine," Robbie said. "Just… one of your welcoming party… she reminds me of my sister-in-law---enough to make me look twice." 

Stiles understood that to mean <i>one of your welcoming party is a werewolf</i> and he nodded. There was no need to give away that he was in the know---although he suspected whoever it was would realise he knew as soon as they scented Nick, Cora, and Derek all over him---and playing dumb often helped protect him or give him an advantage through less than peaceful interactions. 

"Thanks again for keeping me company while I wait for my bags," Stiles said.

Robbie nodded. "Good luck with… whatever it is you're in town to do." 

Stiles nodded, too, before Robbie slipped away and left Stiles standing in front of the empty carousel and the cart he'd pilfered from the area. There were plenty of people loitering, but the baggage claim area wasn't overcrowded, so he could hear when the people with the sign (he assumed) started walking towards him. 

It was time to get the show on the road---and put Stiles the Emissary aside so Stellah Stardust could take over driving for a while. 

#####

After a third attempt at reading the page in front of him, Derek sighed and closed the book. 

He couldn't focus. He knew Stiles would be fine---it was just a flight to Los Angeles---but he felt the absence of Stiles' presence in his heart. It was an ache that had started the last time he'd returned to Beacon Hills, something small that blossomed into a full-blown feeling he couldn't ignore after they left the airport. He couldn't rub or breathe it away; he could only hope that the next few weeks passed quickly and that he would be relocated to San Francisco in that time so he wouldn't have to feel separated from his mate again in the future. 

Stiles  _ was _ his mate. He'd known that before Stiles left for college. It had been easier then, because he knew they weren't ready for any sort of commitment; Derek had felt he still wasn't worthy of a mate, and he'd known that Stiles should experience all the things that higher education could offer him, including love (even if he found someone with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life). He'd channeled his feelings into trying to better himself---and into becoming Stiles' friend. Every time Stiles returned home to visit, Derek went out of his way to spend time with him. Their friendship strengthened as a result. 

He almost thought he'd lose Stiles, after John had been killed. He thanked his lucky stars every day that Stiles never blamed him; he'd vowed to do better and to be better for Stiles, but Stiles only ever wanted him to be himself. When Stiles and Scott shattered their friendship---officially, because Derek saw signs of erosion during their undergraduate studies, the product of having different experiences and growing apart---he'd had a moment of fear that he would lose Stiles, too, but Stiles never let that happen. They'd been careful around each other for a few months, trying to be mindful of politics; Derek suspected Stiles was also trying to figure out his place in Nick's pack at that time, healing his wounds and building up his new life, and he understood those few months better with hindsight. 

Stiles admitting he loved Derek---as more than a friend, though true friendship is not without immense value to either of them---was the best thing to happen in a long time. However, because it was him, the most cursed werewolf in all of existence, he couldn't dive into a relationship. No, they would have to continue to be careful, so as to not tip off Scott to their continued and deepening contact, until Derek could accept Nick as his alpha and break ties with Beacon Hills. 

In a way, he'd already accepted Nick. He wasn't sure what would happen if Scott asserted his 'rights' as alpha, if he growled and glowed and did his best to force Derek to yield to his will. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. He didn't want to be forced to betray Nick, Cora, Stiles, and the pack he hoped would be his in the near future. 

"Ugh, you're sad," Cora muttered as she walked into the room. 

Derek looked up at her. "Has he called?" 

Cora smiled a little. "No, not yet. Between security and boarding and the actual flight… well, it won't be too much longer," she said. "Nick's waiting in the sun room, in case he calls. We're planning on going for a real run after he checks in and hands in his phone. You… you wanna come with us?" 

"To the sun room or on a run?" Derek asked. 

"Both!" she said, flopping down next to him. "C'mon. It's gonna be a long six weeks if you sit here and brood the whole time." 

"I… he's my mate, Cora." 

At those whispered words, Cora smiled. "I know. The two of you are pretty obvious---especially now. Before, I barely noticed, but now… I have no idea how you two never realised you were nuts for each other." 

"I've known since before he went away for school," Derek admitted. 

Cora's eyes widened. "Why didn't you---"

"He deserved to grow up, have the college experience---"

Cora cut him off with a groan. "But he was crazy about you, back when you saved me!" 

"He was?"

"Ohmigod, yes!"

Derek knew he'd made the right choice, taking the time to try to heal while letting Stiles live his life. They both needed time. But, he couldn't deny that he felt a blush of pleasure, knowing Stiles had had feelings for him way back then. 

"We weren't ready---or I wasn't ready," Derek said. 

Cora turned so she could rest her head on Derek's shoulder and still look at him. "What do you mean?" she asked. 

"Just… the fire… Laura, Peter, Kate… all my failures as alpha---"

"Der… you didn't fail. Really. You did the best you could, given what you'd experienced and known," Cora insisted. She put her hand over Derek's heart. "Laura was meant to be alpha. Mom should have probably trained all of us---but she had no way of knowing---"

"But, I---"

"Kate was a predator, and evil to boot," Cora insisted. "And Peter… he's not the uncle I remember." 

Derek sighed and closed his eyes. It was nothing Stiles and Nick (and Cora) hadn't told him already, several times. But, it was also hard to take to heart. He made mistakes. He'd had to live with the results of those failures. No one could let him off the hook without his permission and he could never quite pull himself off of it completely. 

"I love you, you know that, right?" Cora said. 

He nodded. "I love you, too," he whispered. 

"Will it be weird for you, to be in a pack where I'm the alpha's mate?" 

Derek opened his eyes and looked down at Cora. He hadn't expected that question; it was never an issue for him. Even though he'd been an alpha, he grew up believing he'd be a beta---and maybe Laura's second if they stayed in Beacon Hills. Accepting Nick didn't chafe, physically or emotionally, and it wasn't a secret that Cora and Nick were the ruling pair and at the apex of Nick's pack structure. He knew Cora would outrank him; he had no problem yielding to his younger sister. 

"No," he said. "It won't be weird. I trust you not to lord your power over me." 

She smiled and nodded. "I wouldn't," she confirmed. "I love this pack. And you're a part of it." 

"I know," Derek murmured. 

Cora pulled away from him and took his hand in hers. She tugged him up off the sofa and gave him no more than a few seconds to put down his book before she was guiding him through the house. 

Unsurprisingly, they ended up in the sun room. Nick was sitting at the table with a beer in his hand. His phone was in front of him. He seemed relaxed, but Derek could see tension in the square set of his shoulders. 

"Nothing yet?" Cora asked. 

"No, but probably soon," Nick replied. "He didn't say he'd call, but I'm guessing he'll try to before they take his phone." 

"Do you know… what will happen today?" Derek asked. 

Nick shrugged. "Not for sure, but usually, each contestant is taken to the hotel as they land or arrive," he said. "They're kept separate until the big cast reveal."

After a nod, Derek sat down in a chair opposite him. Cora brought two more bottles to the table---apparently, she'd ducked back into the kitchen---and sat between them. 

"Still want to run?" Nick asked Cora. 

She smiled. "Yeah, just the three of us," she replied. "Think it would help. I'm nervous for him, y'know?" 

"I called Libbey, she said she'd send someone to the airport to make sure he was picked up by the show's people," Nick said. "And Clay's working for the security team---"

"He is?" Derek interjected.

He hadn't expected that. He knew Cora wanted Stiles to have personal security---because any pack could decide to attack theirs by attacking Stiles in the middle of a bunch of humans---but the production studio hadn't been lenient enough to allow them  that request. Derek assumed  they would have to rely on human security to protect Stiles. But, clearly, he'd been wrong and Nick had kept working to find a way to protect their emissary (and Derek's mate). 

"I found the company supplying security, did I little scheming thing, and asked Clay for a favour," Nick said. "He understood. If Elena or Jeremy were here on business, I'd supply security."

"L.A. isn't Bear Valley," Cora said. 

"No, but Clay… well, he volunteered," Nick joked. He smiled and shrugged. "Our packs are always going to be close---we were one pack for a long time. Clay's…" 

"Family," Derek murmured. "Thank you." 

Nick nodded. "Anyway, human resources at the security company took one look at him and decided he'd make great eye candy for everyone," he added, smirking. "Wasn't hard after that." 

"So he'll be on site… and Stiles will have someone watching his back," Cora said. 

"Might backfire, because you know how Clay can be, but I know he likes Stiles and will protect him." 

Derek shrugged and said, "I trust him to be able to tell the difference between fake and real trouble." 

Cora leaned toward Nick and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she said in a soft voice. 

"I wasn't all that comfortable letting him go off unprotected, either," Nick admitted before he turned and kissed Cora once on her lips. "Still need that run?"

She grinned. "Yeah. Now that Derek isn't the only Hale who can full shift, I wanna see if I can race him." 

Derek looked up from his drink. "You can? Since when?"

"After I settled here, with Nick," she replied. 

If asked, Derek would have admitted that it stung---Cora hadn't trusted him with such remarkable news. He thought they'd been growing closer, but maybe they weren't? 

"Well, congratulations," he said while forcing himself to smile. 

Cora rolled her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. 

"Derek…" 

He shook his head. He wasn't going to fight with her; she might not value their relationship, but he did. Fighting with her wouldn't solve anything. After everything he put her through, with the fire and the alpha pack, he could hide his hurt feelings and be happy for her. 

"It's great that you can do that," he said. "You didn't… have to almost die or anything, to make it happen?" 

"No… it was danger-free," she assured him. "I was practically human for a few days, but… it worked out." 

Derek nodded, because that was part of his experience and because he was glad she hadn't undergone anything worse. Then, he turned his attention to his bottle of beer; with the quick use of one claw, the cap was flipped off and he could drink the golden liquid within the amber glass. He wished it would smother the questions and accusations brewing inside of him even though he knew it wouldn't do anything but quench his thirst. 

He missed Stiles more in that moment. Stiles had been there through his transformation---he'd found him in the tomb, he'd been there when Derek thought he was dying---and he would have understood Derek's mixed feelings. He could have bridged the gap between siblings who were still relearning how to be brother and sister to each other. 

#####

"Miz Stardust?" 

He turned and smiled. "Sorry, hey, it's been a rough morning---I'm not super aware of my surroundings," he said, mixing the truth with a bit of a lie. "You're… the people I'm supposed to meet?" 

The young woman, flanked by two scruffy-but-tanned guys, was wearing a piece of identification marked by the production company's logo. Stiles could see her name was Ashleigh Vincent, and he made a mental note of that for if she turned out to be the werewolf who snagged Robbie's attention. It made sense that she would; Robbie had suggested the werewolf was female, and she was the only female in the little group. Still, Stiles knew he should take note of the guys' identification, too, because it would be careless to assume there was only one werewolf around him at any given time when he was staying in territory that wasn't protected by his pack. 

"Yeah, I'm Ashleigh and this is Jake and Jared," she said, pointing to each of the men. "We're PA's for the show and they're going to load up your luggage and take it to your hotel room." 

"And… I'm not going to the hotel room?" 

She shook her head. "Not right away." 

Stiles frowned. The flight hadn't been long, but he was already feeling twitchy---he wanted to start unpacking and figuring out what he wanted to send to the set and what could stay in his room, and he really wanted to do some sort-of-yoga to try to keep his electric energy from shocking people later. 

Ashleigh continued talking, unaware of Stiles' thoughts. "We'll get your luggage and it will go on ahead of us," she confirmed. "Meanwhile, you and I need to go over the ground rules, and I have to confiscate your phone. We have a space cordoned off where we can go through the documents and rules and stuff." 

"Will I be able to make a last phone call?" Stiles asked. "Just to let my, uh, family know I reached my destination? So they don't worry, I mean. They know I'll be out of contact---but I'd like to let them know I'm okay and with the right people."

She smiled. "Of course." 

It took another few minutes for the carousel to start moving, and another few minutes after that for the luggage to appear. Passengers came out of the crowd, stepping forward to find their suitcases; Stiles walked to the metallic edge of the carousel and waited for his bags, aware of Jake and Jared following behind him. He grabbed his first suitcase, and pointed out the second to one of the guys. The third one was heavy and he needed help lifting it off the track; as he rubbed his hands, he pointed out the fourth and fifth for the other men to lift. 

"That's everything?" Ashleigh asked. 

Stiles nodded. She smiled and dismissed Jake and Jared, who seemed to know where they were going, and Ashleigh motioned for Stiles to follow him before she started walking. 

She took him into a hallway---something he was sure he was never supposed to see, because of the airport security personnel standing like sentries in the hallway---and into a small room. When he walked past her to enter the space, he thought she sniffed particularly loudly, but the door closed and then Stiles tried to force himself to focus on the moment. 

Ashleigh handed him a loose (and vaguely labeled) schedule---three days was the average length of an episode, though there were longer and shorter gaps blocked off on the calendar---and he wished he could know what challenges were for each of the episodes. She went over how they would be transported from the hotel to the production; she made it clear the staff wasn't running a taxi service, and that they couldn't go back and forth any time they liked. The rules weren't a surprise, either, because he'd received a digital copy with his contract, but he still took them and read them again. He had to initial and sign some pages, to legally indicate that he accepted abiding by those rules for his duration on the show. 

When Ashleigh produced a box for his phone, from the messenger bag she'd been carrying, he sighed and pulled it out of his jacket. 

"I have to stay to make sure you don't say any---"

Stiles dismissed her excuse with a nod. If she were a werewolf, he'd have to be careful about what was said. But, they were in a small quiet room; he'd have to be careful about what he said, anyway, because phone calls could almost always be overheard in a quiet room. 

He dialled Nick's number, assuming Derek and Cora would be with him, and waited. 

Nick answered on the second ring.  _ "Hey, Stellah, you're on speaker,"  _ he said.

At the sound of Nick's voice, Stiles sighed and tried to relax. "Hi… hi," he said. "I'm just… I want to tell you I arrived okay." 

_ "Is everything all right?" _ Derek asked. 

After a little snort, because of course Derek would know and worry if Stiles' voice didn't sound completely at ease, Stiles said, "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm… I met Robbie---thanks for that, Nick, by the way. It was nice to see a friendly face when I landed. Y'know. Because of the stress." 

_ "He was there to make sure no one intercepted you," _ Nick explained.  _ "Were there any problems?" _

Stiles avoided Ashleigh's gaze as he said, "No, no problems. He thought he saw someone he knew, but it turned out to be my ride. One of them's with me now."

_ "Well. That isn't exactly a surprise," _ Nick said. 

Derek chimed in next.  _ "It feels okay?" _

"Yeah, big guy, I'm okay," Stiles murmured. "You?"

_ "Don't worry about me," _ Derek said.

Well, that was an evasive answer Stiles couldn't ignore. He opened his mouth to push Derek for the truth. At the same time, Ashleigh coughed and reminded him that he and Derek weren't alone. Stiles sighed and bowed his head, silently vowing to revisit the subject when he was alone and could text Derek---as long as his phone hadn't been discovered and confiscated. 

"I love you, so it's what I do," Stiles murmured. 

_ "I'm on it, Stellah." _

Nick's words helped Stiles to breathe past his concerns. He nodded, even though they couldn't see him, and he slumped into his plastic chair. 

"I… I guess I better go then," he said. 

_ "Have a safe trip," _ Cora called out.  _ "We'll take care of each other, so you take care of you!" _

They shared a few more words of love and encouragement before Stiles ended the call, ignoring the ache in his heart as he pushed the button on the phone's screen. As he breathed through his pain, he thought about looking at his pictures; he decided to take one, instead, to try to confirm Robbie's belief. If Ashleigh's eyes didn't flare, she could be human; contacts were a possibility, but Stiles knew Derek hated wearing them and assumed others did, too. If her eyes flared in the photograph, he could send it to Nick. He had no reason to suspect shenanigans, especially not when things were starting out calm and pleasant; his experiences as emissary taught him it was better to be cautious and cover any possible bases, though, in case relations fell apart at a later date. 

Ashleigh didn't seem to notice him taking the picture; she also seemed unaware when he saw her eyes flare in the image. 

Stiles sent the text to Nick--- _ Better to be safe than sorry. Ashleigh Vincent. _ \---with the photograph and then turned off the device. He put it on the table and watched Ashleigh pick it up, examine it, and put it on the box; she jotted down notes about the model and its condition before closing her binder. 

"Do you have another phone?" she asked. 

After a shake of his head, Stiles replied, "I have an old ebook reader in my suitcase. It doesn't have a SIM card. I don't think it can connect to WiFi, either. I don't sleep well… it was the easiest way to bring a lot of books. It's in the suitcase with the red ribbon tied to the handle---in the top front pocket---if it's a problem." 

She nodded. "We'll check it, to be sure," she said. Picking up her phone, she appeared to send a text. It chimed a moment later, and she nodded again as she read the text. Putting her phone in her bag, she smiled at him. "Ready to start your adventure?"

Stiles smiled, letting Stellah rise to the forefront of his personality. "I'm always ready for adventure," he said. "What's next?" 

#####

"There he is," Nick said as his phone started ringing. He pushed a couple buttons on the screen and put the phone down on the table. "Hey, Stellah, you're on speaker."

Derek held his breath as he waited to hear Stiles' voice. 

_ "Hi… hi," _ Stiles said.  _ "I'm just… I want to tell you I arrived okay." _

Cora leaned into his side, a comforting gesture Derek couldn't quite process because Stiles' voice sounded strained---as if he were tired or stressed---and Derek didn't like that. 

"Is everything all right?" Derek asked. 

Before he replied, Stiles snorted.

_ "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm… I met Robbie---thanks for that, Nick, by the way. It was nice to see a friendly face when I landed. Y'know. Because of the stress."  _

Derek felt himself relax a little bit more. His jumbled feelings associated with Stiles and Cora were still there, in his heart, but hearing Stiles talk and knowing a representative of the local pack met him to help ensure his safety allowed some of the worried tension to seep out of his muscles.

"He was there to make sure no one intercepted you," Nick explained. "Were there any problems?"

_ "No, no problems. He thought he saw someone he knew, but it turned out to be my ride. One of them's with me now." _

And then the tension increased. There was at least one werewolf on the show's staff. It wasn't a huge surprise---werewolves could work and live in mundane society if they wanted to---but it did mean that there was a chance Stiles wouldn't be safe while filming the show. 

"Well. That isn't exactly a surprise," Nick said. 

"It feels okay?" Derek asked, trying to determine how Stiles felt about that news without giving anything away in case they were listening. 

_ "Yeah, big guy, I'm okay," _ Stiles murmured.  _ "You?" _

They didn't have the time or privacy for Derek to get into all the thoughts swirling around in his head. Not for the first time since he walked into the room, he wished Stiles were there; he knew Stiles would be able to help him find perspective and straighten out his head. But, Stiles was in Los Angeles and would be for at least six weeks. Stiles' career was more important than Derek's anxieties. 

"Don't worry about me," Derek said. 

Nick looked from the phone to Derek, his head tilted in contemplation. Nick wasn't Sherlock, but he was smarter than a lot of people; it may take him a while to figure out what was going on, but Derek knew he would eventually put some of the pieces together. He wasn't sure if he wanted Nick's scrutiny focused on him; it didn't look like he had a choice. 

_ "I love you, so it's what I do," _ Stiles murmured. 

Nick cleared his throat. "I'm on it, Stellah," he said. 

He forgot what it was like to have an alpha care about him---and he immediately found it to be annoying as well as comforting. Laura has been too grief-stricken to really look after her pack; Derek's care had been farmed out to Jeremy's pack when they arrived in Bear Valley, but Derek hadn't been Jeremy's beta and he'd been dealing with his own grief. Peter… well, Peter never did anything the way an alpha should, and Derek had ripped out his throat, partially for his lack of effort in that regard. His relationship with his latest alpha, Scott, was ending in disappointment. There had been moments when Derek thought Scott could handle the responsibility; but, as time progressed, Derek learned that Scott cared about some instead of all, making decisions that would serve the few instead of the many. If Scott were a decent alpha, he would have approached Derek on fair terms instead of pushing him or forcing him into certain positions; if Scott were a decent alpha, Derek wouldn't be in another city and with another pack. 

Nick was a good alpha to his pack. He was a good alpha to Derek---and Derek wasn't even an official member of his pack yet. 

Despite that, Derek wasn't ready to spill his guts to Nick. He needed to be sure, and while Nick took care of Derek's sister and mate, Derek was reluctant to yield and give to another alpha until he knew what exactly he was thinking and feeling. 

Derek glared at Nick. Nick arched an eyebrow and glared back. 

_ "I… I guess I better go then," _ Stiles said. 

"Have a safe trip," Cora called out. "We'll take care of each other, so you take care of you!"

_ "Yeah, I will," _ Stiles said. He sighed.  _ "I love you guys. For different reasons. But---" _

"I love you," Derek interjected. 

"Good luck and we'll see you when all this is over," Nick added. 

Stiles ended the call, leaving Derek feeling as if they'd separated all over again. He rubbed a hand over his sternum, trying to dispel the physical ache he associated with missing Stiles, and he reached for his bottle of beer. After a couple mouthfuls, Nick's phone chirped. 

"He got a picture of the wolf," Nick said. 

He showed Derek and Cora his screen; all Derek could see was a petite body in casual clothes, a slender neck and long, curly hair, and pink lips. Nothing he could see was familiar to him. He shrugged and looked at Nick. 

"What can you do with that?" Derek asked. 

"Gonna call Libbey---the alpha---and ask about this Ashleigh Vincent character," Nick replied. "Doesn't hurt to try. She might be pack… and Libbey can tell us that." 

Cora nodded. "While you call her, I'm going to go call the elders about breakfast tomorrow," she said. 

She stood up and squeezed Nick's shoulder as she passed him. Derek watched them, admiring the easy way they related to each other and how much Cora had changed over the years, and then he and Nick were alone. 

He focused on his beer. He could feel Nick's eyes on him even as Nick picked up his phone and placed a call. 

Derek tuned out most of that conversation. A lot of it was Nick thanking Libbey for sending one of her betas to the airport to watch out for Stiles, and it drifted over him as he drank his beer and missed Stiles. He listened only when Nick mentioned Ashleigh Vincent and asked if she were a member of their pack; he didn't like that the Los Angeles alpha had no knowledge of the woman, but he also knew it didn't necessarily mean she was a bad person. She held a job, she seemed to be trying to live within the law; Derek had no reason to suspect she would cause Stiles trouble. 

Clay would be there, too, as security for the show's contestants. He wouldn't let Stiles get hurt if he could prevent it. 

Derek didn't have to worry. But, he would worry until he could see Stiles again. 

When Nick ended the call, he put his phone on the table and settled back in his seat. 

"You want to talk about it now or later?" Nick asked. 

"How about never?" Derek replied. 

Nick snorted. "Later, then," he decided. 

Derek rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut. 

#####

Ashleigh directed Stiles out of the terminal, towards a couple of dark vehicles. She told him his luggage had already been taken to the hotel---and that he'd need to decide what needed to go to the studio by eight o'clock that night. Stiles nodded, already expecting something like that; he figured they'd all be bringing things to the studio because he'd never seen more than one suitcase per person in the room where the contestants did the majority of their work. He remained silent, apart from agreeing quietly, and studied the luxury car and sport-utility vehicle; he wanted to know what was happening and Ashleigh seemed content with vague explanations. 

"So, you're going to get in the back, and we're going to go for a ride before we take you to the hotel. You'll have to wear a blindfold for the last half hour of the trip, but for now, hop in."

Stiles blinked. Ashleigh was looking expectantly at him, her hand gesturing to the door. He knew there was a very good chance it was all a part of the plan; the fact that she was a werewolf made him wary. He was alone and stressed and if she meant him or his pack harm she was well placed to act on her intentions. 

"Don't worry," she said. "Every contestant gets this ride. You're all scheduled to arrive in a way that we can do this." 

Not understanding what exactly she meant, Stiles nodded. Ashleigh must have assumed he was agreeing to play along because she opened the back door and gestured for him to go inside. 

Stiles inhaled and moved to get into the car. He almost tripped on the curb, so he flailed and landed with a  _ thump! _ and an  _ oof! _ next to---

_ Holy shit. _

"Well, that was quite an entrance," RuPaul Charles said as Stiles blinked at him. 

"I… hi. Wow. Hi! My limbs aren't always connected to my brain," Stiles said. 

He felt his face burning hot as he looked at the person he'd admired from his television screen through every season of the show; he'd known they would interact, but he thought it would be in terms of staged encounters and having that seemingly private time was something he hadn't factored into his assumptions. 

There he was, in a tailored suit and shoes that probably cost more than all of Stiles' clothes combined, looking calm and in control through his relaxed body language, and Stiles was expected to interact with him. 

"How is this my life?" Stiles whispered. 

RuPaul snorted. 

Realising he said that out loud, Stiles buried his face in his hands and muttered, "My mouth isn't connected to my brain, either."

"Relax," RuPaul said. "You're not being judged yet. Think of this as 'RUber.' A drive from Point A to Point B---with company."

Stiles brought his hands down and nodded as the car pulled away from the curb. 

"So, manners. Yes. It's an honour to meet you," Stiles said. "And thank you for inviting me to compete." 

RuPaul smiled at him. "You're welcome. Your video was very intriguing." 

"It was?"

"You showed a lot of yourself in those few minutes," RuPaul said, nodding. "We saw a potential contestant who had experienced a lot and turned those hurts into strengths. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do on stage." 

Stiles nodded. "I am, too. I mean… it's all an illusion---no offense, but what isn't?---but it's also a challenge in building those illusions and I want more to sink my teeth into." 

RuPaul smiled at him. "Interesting way of phrasing it," he commented. 

"Everyone hides---who they are, what they can do, whether they're aware of it or not---and drag is just another level of that," Stiles continued, thinking about werewolves and other supernatural beings in addition to the people with whom he worked on stage. 

"And what are  _ you _ hiding?" RuPaul asked. 

Mentally scolding himself for being an easy target, again, Stiles groaned and shook his head. "Well, I walked into that, huh?" he replied. 

"Tell me about your childhood," RuPaul suggested after a nod. 

"Is this therapy?" Stiles asked. 

When RuPaul grinned and shrugged, as enigmatic as a sphinx, Stiles snorted and started talking. He talked about his mother, and how encouraging she'd been of all his antics until she'd gotten sick; he talked about his father and how supportive (or worried) he'd been almost every single day or moment Stiles could remember. 

He thought about leaving Scott out of his word vomit. He almost did, but then RuPaul asked a question, and he knew he wouldn't be able to. 

"How did your friends react to you doing drag for the first time?"

"I… I didn't tell them the first time," Stiles said. He shrugged. "The first time, some queens at the local club… they sort of surprise-befriended me and before I knew it, I was dressed up. I kept it a secret for a little while. 

"Then Danny showed up at the club one night and saw me. He was surprised but cool with it. Cool is how Danny rolled back then. When my pa---group found out, it was a mixed bag. My best friend at the time got a little weird. Wasn't a surprise when we broke up---but it wasn't because of drag. Some people just assumed I'm gay---which isn't a huge problem, clearly, since my big, serious love is with a guy; it just isn't the way I'm wired---and said they didn't care what I got up to in my private time.

"Lydia---a friend---tried to take over my style choices, but it wasn't helpful," Stiles continued. "Derek and Dad were the best. Dad started coming to competitions and performance nights with me. Derek… he… man, he was such a good friend. Better than I knew he could be."

RuPaul smiled. "He was supportive?"

"Enthusiastically," Stiles confirmed. He smiled and shrugged. "He asked about pronouns, and then he asked  _ how _ he could help. He used to come over and offer advice when I put together a new look---which wasn't always helpful, because the guy wears denim and leather and shirts in varying shades of grey or black---"

"Nothing wrong with that look," RuPaul purred. 

Stiles laughed. "No, it  _ definitely  _ works for him," he agreed. 

"So, now you have him, his sister, and your drag mom, Nikki Stardust, as your family," RuPaul said. "Are you in touch with anyone from home?"

"They're my home," Stiles said. At RuPaul's pointed look, he shook his head. "No, I'm not. It's not a good idea. For me or my made family. They're not who I thought they were." 

RuPaul hummed briefly before saying, "Illusions don't always make things prettier." 

"No, they don't," Stiles agreed. "But, there's something kind of honest and weird and wonderful about seeing past the curtain, and realising what's real. Gives you a chance to make a decision---to take a step you've been unsure about." 

After a somewhat sad smile and a nod, as if he understood what Stiles was trying to say, RuPaul turned the conversation to the show and used the time to discover Stiles' favorite seasons and contestants. Stiles tried to be diplomatic, because he didn't know RuPaul's actual favourites and didn't want to offend him, but Stiles eventually confessed his admiration of Raja, Manila Luzon, Bendelacreme, and Jinx Monsoon.

"There are a few I've never met and would love to," Stiles added. "Latrice seems like such a character. Someone fun and crazy---but grounded in reality, too. And Aquaria always sort of blew my mind with their looks. But, my faves are my faves---"

"Nothing wrong with that. Everyone has their favourites and their reasons are all different," RuPaul agreed. "So. In your video audition, you showed us footage of you performing on stage in comedic productions… do you consider yourself a comedy queen?"

"Ehh… I don't know. I started in San Francisco in an improv group, so there's been a lot of comedy, but I don't think I'm funny," Stiles admitted. "Mostly, I take jobs that are productions---campy plays and musicals---"

"That's comedy, too," RuPaul said. "Just because you're not doing stand-up doesn't mean it's not funny."

Stiles nodded, considering his words. "Yes, okay… that's a good point," he conceded. 

"Your audition video showed a lot of variety in your performances. What do you like to do the most?" 

"I miss improv---there was something so fast and real about it. I'd stumble into something that was a bit of a revelation and my mind would whir it over for days after my time on stage," Stiles said, thinking of his start under Nikki's wing. "But, that could have been because I was grieving the loss of Dad and my so-called friends, and I was a mess. It was a long road of recovery. Not with drugs or anything. Just emotionally. I had a lot of stuff to cycle through. And trying to make people laugh helped keep me from crying, weirdly.

"But, I do like stage productions. I'm not ready to write my own material, but giving life to someone else's words… it's good," Stiles continued. He smirked and shrugged. "A kickass lip sync performance works does the trick, too. When the audience is right there with you, dancing and singing along… waiting to see what you'll do next… it's heady." 

"You do videos online, too," RuPaul said. "Is that something Nikki pushed you into doing?"

"Ah, no. That was me. Nikki made sure I was doing it as safely and as polished as I could---which might've been more for her---but I wanted to do it," Stiles replied. "I'm not an expert, and there are a ton of videos out there to teach people, but I remember starting and trying to watch some videos---and I couldn't get it, whatever the lesson or skill was. I had to figure out my own way. And I thought… maybe there are others like me, who can't get their lashes to stick right, even if they're following someone's instructions, or someone who cannot get their eyebrows symmetrical, and maybe they'd benefit from what I learn when I struggle." 

"You like to teach?"

Stiles shrugged. "I like to help." 

RuPaul nodded and crossed his legs at his ankles. Stiles fell silent, too, not sure what to say. The man next to him was a mystery; Stiles only knew what he showed the public, and that was an illusion. To be in unobserved (as far as he could tell, though he wouldn't be surprised if there were a hidden camera) conversation with RuPaul was something for which Stiles hadn't prepared. He wondered if he would be the only starstruck contestant; he wondered if it would be the only time he felt like that, or if the feeling would continue when they were acting like showrunner and contestant in front of the cameras. 

"Todrick is conducting some of these interviews, too," RuPaul said, turning his gaze back onto Stiles. "Usually, it's just me, but this show is his as much as it's mine this time around." 

"Is that weird?" Stiles asked. 

RuPaul shrugged. "It is and it isn't. I understand the fans want another run of the show, and I appreciate that," he replied. "But, I'm enjoying my life now, as it is, and I'm not looking to tie myself to another five to ten years of television. Todrick, on the other hand, is looking forward and planning to bring a new drag renaissance to the people. So, as strange as it is to not be in control of every aspect of this microuniverse, I don't mind as much as I thought I would. My name's still on it---that helps, too." 

"Will the show's format change?" 

Smirking, RuPaul asked, "Trying to get the inside scoop?" 

"You don't think that's something any of us would try to figure out?" Stiles replied. 

RuPaul chuckled. "Good point," he conceded. He rested his arm on the door and looked at Stiles. "It could be the same, it could be different. You still in?" 

"Of course," Stiles said. "I'm here for the adventure." 

"What are you really expecting from this---the competition?" RuPaul asked. 

"The challenge itself, obviously," Stiles said, not hesitating to answer. He'd been thinking about that subject since he submitted his video. "I want to expand my horizons. I could keep working at Nikki's club, and I could meet other queens and try to learn from them, but this show always seemed to bring a wide variety of drag styles together in a pressure cooker environment. You could see it in episodes---people learning from each other, right there, on the spot. And then you see those influences in their art and performances later on. 

"I don't want to stagnate. I'm afraid of that, really," he said, pausing to take a breath. "And, yeah, I want to win. That would be amazing. But, if I only walk away from this with a head full of inspiration, I don't think I'll look at this experience as a failure." 

"And the fame?" RuPaul asked. 

Stiles frowned. "I like keeping my private life separate from my public life," he answered. "That might get harder to do. But, my family said they'd support me through this, and I trust them to have my back if I work hard enough to earn that sort of celebrity." 

"It can be difficult," RuPaul said. "But, once you develop your public persona---which you appear to be well on your way to doing, from what I've seen---you'll find it's second nature to wear it when you're with people who aren't in your inner circle." 

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, thinking of his role as emissary and everything he'd done to protect his werewolf friends. 

"You are a bit of a mystery," RuPaul remarked as he studied Stiles. "Lots of layers under that pretty face. I'm curious enough that I want to peel them back and see who's the real person underneath." 

If he acted too suspiciously, Stiles knew he could push RuPaul and the producers and editors to try to reveal his truths to the world. If he acted as if he were being completely truthful, it could be seen as disingenuous. As with werewolves, Stiles felt a half-truth would be the best strategy. 

"Sometimes I want to do that, too," Stiles said. 

RuPaul smiled. "Maybe it'll happen over the next six weeks," he said. 

Stiles smiled back at him. "Could be fun," he replied. 

"That's the spirit!" RuPaul exclaimed, his smile stretching into a grin. He adjusted his glasses. "We're almost at the hotel, so before we blindfold you, how do you want to be addressed: Stiles or Stellah?" 

"I'm fine with either, honestly," Stiles replied. "I'm pretty fluid in terms of that. If it's better or easier for me to be one of the girls, my identity won't take a hit. Stellah is me as much as Stiles is me." 

RuPaul nodded. "All right. Good to know and I'll keep that in mind," he said. "I look forward to seeing how you do in the competition." 

"Any advice for me?" Stiles asked. 

With another softer smile, RuPaul said, "Be yourself. Be open, instead of angry or fearful, and accept criticism and new experiences---and don't fuck it up." 

Stiles snorted and nodded. He knew he was taking a risk---both for his career and his pack---but Nick believed it would be fine, and Stiles trusted him to be honest. He hoped the competition would give his artistry a boost, but he mostly hoped he survived the experience. The closer they got to the hotel, the more Stiles worried about how he'd get along with the other contestants and how his performance would be edited in the show. 

#####

Since they had nothing scheduled until the next morning's early meeting with a notary and breakfast with the pack elders, Derek agreed to go for a long run with Cora and Nick after they ate lunch. 

He wasn't sure he wanted to go out into the forest with them, but he still had anxiety prickling up his spine and doubt sinking in his gut. He knew a run would help him process some of those feelings. It may not cure him of those feelings, but he'd always felt that running helped him clear his head and prepare to figure out a course of action. 

They went outside together, splitting to undress when they reached the tree line. Nick followed Cora, and Derek found his own bushes to hide his clothes. 

The shift became easier with time. He undressed, tucking his clothes underneath the boughs of a bush, and then he concentrated on letting loose the parts of him he kept under tight control. The wolf was him---it wasn't like he had two minds contained inside his body---but he always pictured the wolf as separate during the change. He felt that side of his personality rise as his body gave way and shifted. 

Once he was settled on four paws, he looked around the woods. He couldn't see Cora or Nick, but he could smell and hear them well enough to know they were no more than fifty feet away. 

He looked to his left, then to his right. After surveying his surroundings, he huffed out a breath and took off in a run. 

Tearing through the forest, he felt his thoughts start to melt away. There was a sort of primal joy in running in his wolf form and he let it overpower his mind---which was why he didn't hear Nick behind him. 

Nick leapt, landing on Derek's hind end and sending them both skidding into some tall grass and a grouping of young trees. 

Derek growled; Nick growled back. When Derek tried to stand up again, Nick crowded in close and kept him down. 

Instead of growling again, which is what Derek expected, Nick whined inquisitively and nuzzled at Derek's ear. Derek understood the combination of gestures---or the feeling behind them. He was asking what was wrong, in his own way; he was asking Derek to trust him and submit by baring his throat. 

Could he put aside his feelings? Could he trust Cora even though she hadn't trusted him? 

Nick lowered his body until he was lying down in front of Derek, his muzzle resting on his extended front legs. Derek thought about running off, but he was still splayed on his side and Nick was positioned better to take off running; it would be a quick takedown if Derek tried to run again. 

As they remained in a sort of holding pattern, Derek inched up so he was no longer resting on his side. Nick watched him in the steady way Derek expected from both Nick and a good alpha, in general. 

Cora bounded into the clearing, tail wagging and tongue lolling, before she slowed to a trot and joined them. 

Her coat was dark, but not as dark as Derek's or Talia's fur. Brown and tan hair was mixed through her fur, like sunshine kissed and lightened it. Her eyes were the same, though, dark and assessing, and Derek found a little comfort in that genetic trait being carried from their mother to both of them. 

She wanted to run, hunt, and play; Derek could see the message in all of her body language. She nudged him with her nose before circling Nick and poking him with her paw. She didn't understand what was happening---and the chemosignals coming from Derek probably didn't help with comprehension. 

Nick tried to calm her down, but that only made her push harder. With a huff and a roll of his head, Nick rose to his feet. 

Hoping he could be left alone, Derek watched them fuss and play. Cora stood still long enough for Nick to rub his muzzle against her neck and jaw; when he was finished scenting her, though, Cora pounced and tried to knock over Nick before scampering back a few feet. She wagged her tail and hopped from one side to another, teasing Nick and trying to bait him. 

Nick joined her, dancing around her until he could pounce; then, Cora yipped and pounced on him in retaliation. 

Derek sat up, preparing himself to take off for actual solitude as soon as Nick and Cora were deeply engaged in play, and he looked around his surroundings. He'd visited the woods around Nick's den house before---only once as a fully shifted wolf---so the territory was still fairly unfamiliar to him. He was looking forward to running off and being alone with his thoughts, exploring the territory as he worked through his feelings.

As soon as Derek stood, Nick's focus zeroed in on him again. Nick snapped his teeth and tilted his head towards a gap in the brush. He wanted them to go that way; Derek wanted to go the other way. He shook his head and started walking away from them. 

Cora yapped as she trotted towards him. She circled around him and stopped so she was in his path. 

Alpha's mate or not, Cora was still his sister and Derek felt the need to let her know he was bothered by her actions. He curled his lip and pushed past her; he dug his claws into the dirt and tensed in preparation to jump into a running stride. He was going to run off and attempt to leave Cora and Nick behind until he'd worked through his anxieties or was too tired to think about them. 

As he leapt, a heavy weight knocked into his side. Nick pushed him back into the ground, growling deep in his throat as they landed. Derek growled and snarled and backed away from Nick; he didn't want to have the conversation, with words or with gestures, and he needed time to think and feel. Nick's refusal to give him that time felt like more pressure on his heart and mind. 

It also felt like something between rebellion on Derek's part and disapproval on Nick's part---and Derek's lupine instincts hated that. 

When Nick growled again, a very clear  _ listen to me! _ that was punctuated with a stomp of his front paws, Derek slumped to the ground and showed his throat to Nick. He knew if Nick refused to take him into his pack, he would have nowhere else to go but back to Beacon Hills. He couldn't push for freedom any harder, or else he'd receive all the freedom he never wanted. He'd just have to ask if he could go running in his human form later. 

Nick whined and nudged him, urging him to move. Derek nodded and rose to stand between Nick and Cora, who was watching him with wide eyes. 

After a little yip, Nick nudged Cora. She took off running, almost as fast as she could, and it was clear that Nick expected Derek to follow her. Because it was expected, Derek trotted off after Cora. It took him a few minutes, but he worked up to a slow lope. Nick caught up to him easily in his long strided canter; in a reassuring gesture, he brushed his head against Derek's shoulder as he paced into the speed Derek was maintaining. It soothed a few of Derek's frayed feelings, but it didn't settle him the way Nick probably expected it to work. 

Cora looped back a few times, huffing impatiently, but Nick simply chased her off before falling in at Derek's side. He seemed content to stay there; Derek imagined he was itching to run faster and he winced inwardly at the thought of disappointing his friend-turned-future-alpha. 

Nick nudged him again. It took him a minute to figure out why; when he thought he made sense of Nick's actions, he realised Nick must have scented his shame and sadness. He suddenly felt angry with himself---for being so weak and easy to read---and he tried to veer away from Nick but Nick followed him and managed to steer him back onto Cora's trail. 

After the third time Nick herded him after Cora, Derek sighed and resigned himself to staying with the pack for the rest of their run. 

#####

As soon as he locked his hotel room door, Stiles heard the  _ riiiip! _ of tape being pulled and he knew he was trapped for the night. He sighed and tugged off his jacket, putting it and his backpack on the dresser, and then he surveyed his surroundings. 

Searching the room for surveillance equipment would be easier to do while his suitcases were still packed, so Stiles left his luggage in favour of searching every nook and cranny of his room. He looked under the bed, behind the dresser, inside of every drawer, above and along the curtain rods, and continued that practice for every other piece of furniture in the room. He searched the bathroom, too, and then focused on the television and alarm clock. With his inner spark's proclivity for electricity, he tried to open that part of him, in the hope that he'd sense something; but, it wasn't an exact science, so he wasn't surprised when he couldn't detect or discover any devices. 

He taped his vague schedule to the full-length mirror by the door and then put his patterns on the desk before he took his photographs and put them in two places: on the mirror, attached with small pieces of tape, and on his bedside table, propped against the clock. That way, he could look at his family on his way in and out of the room, and he would see Derek when he woke up in the morning. 

With those things handled, Stiles moved onto his suitcases. He pulled out his non-drag gear, piling his skincare and toiletry products on the bed and putting his clothes in the dresser's drawers. The pile on his bed went into the bathroom---except for his nail oil, which he put on the bedside table, so he (hopefully) wouldn't forget to use it every morning and night. 

A bottle of tomato juice from the minibar---he decided to spend the money because he didn't know when the midday meal or convenience groceries he'd ordered (and paid for) would arrive---sustained him while he opened the other suitcases and looked at their contents. The suitcase with the red ribbon had its interior stirred up more than Stiles remembered, so he assumed someone searched the bag for his tablet (even though he'd told Ashleigh it was in the front pocket); there were two other suitcases whose contents seems a bit more ruffled, but Stiles didn't know if they'd been searched or if traveling rumpled the packed items. His tablet was still there, and his phone was still hidden in his platform compartment; nothing appeared to be missing or damaged, just wrinkled, so he considered the first step of his journey a success. 

As much as he wanted to reach out and contact his family, he left the phone where it was and tucked his boots into the closet. Then, he started the arduous process of separating and sorting his costume pieces and accessories. He always assumed they'd be able to make multiple trips, to bring all their things to the soundstage, but he had no idea what they'd need the first few days; he decided to try to sort the contents by category and theme, keeping only what he needed to do his introductory look. 

The garbage bags Nick stuffed in one pocket of a suitcase came in handy as he separated his costumes into groups---undergarments, separates, fishy, nerdy, and weird. His makeup and other cosmetics were trickier to separate, because he knew he would need a lot of it for his introductory look in the morning. But, he did his best, and continued sorting through his possessions until he had everything divided in a system that he hoped would work. 

Lunch arrived with a knock and the sound of tape being pulled away from the door. He took his bags of sandwiches, snacks, and drinks with grace and locked himself away again, choosing to sit in the middle of his bed and munch away while looking over his kingdom of piles and trying to figure out what he would do next. 

#####

Derek groaned and rolled himself into a sitting position. The forest floor cling to his skin; he winced and brushed off some leaves and grass before looking around at his surroundings. 

In the dim, barely-there light of pre-dawn, he could see that Nick was lying on his right side with Cora curled into his back. They'd all passed out after their evening hunt, settling down in the woods in their furry shapes, and sometime during their sleep, they'd shifted back into their human forms. Their clothes were still closer to the house than to where they'd slept, hopefully still tucked under the bushes near the tree line, and Derek wanted to head out before Cora could wake up. Nudity with full shift wolves was expected; he remembered his mother keeping shawls stashed at the front and back of the house, and his father or aunt sometimes carried one if they were going for a run to another location. He spent years in Bear Valley with Jeremy's pack. He knew the etiquette: don't look, don't make a scene, it's just skin. But, he felt raw and exposed and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with his sister seeing him physically exposed, too. 

"She'll be out for at least another hour. The full shift still takes it out of her," Nick whispered. "You wanna talk now?" 

Derek grunted before he looked behind him and saw Nick watching him through his lashes. "Not really," he said. 

"Is this about Stiles?" Nick asked. 

"It's not helping," Derek admitted. "He gets me. And he helps me understand when I don't understand."

"So not being able to call him and talk it out…" 

With a sigh, Derek nodded. Nick reached out and curled his fingers around Derek's wrist. 

"I want to help, Derek," he said quietly. "I get it, you're private---and god knows you learned a hard lesson in who to trust---but, I want to be a good alpha for you. And part of my thing is talking things out. I don't like to assume." 

"How'd that work with Stiles?" Derek asked.

Nick chuckled softly. "He talked circles around me for weeks, never really admitting anything without making me work for it," he replied. "Took a long time for him to  _ really _ trust me." 

"Sounds like Stiles," Derek agreed. 

"You're a different challenge. Feels like we're back at Stonehaven… you want me to back off and give you breathing room but all I want to do is make you laugh and break your silence." 

Derek frowned as he thought about those days. Clay had been the most comforting, apart from Jeremy, when he could tear himself away from Elena; he never needed to talk to express himself and he never wanted Derek to talk to fill the silence between them. At the manor, Laura fussed and asked so many questions it felt as if she were interrogating him; but, in the woods with Clay, he could find the peace to grieve. Nick had been a less inquisitive mix of the two. Sometimes he bounced around Derek and tried to get him talking about anything, and other times he tried to sit quietly until he couldn't bear the silence coming from Derek. 

"Laughter isn't really my thing," Derek said. 

"You used to laugh a lot when we were kids." 

"Well, that was before Kate used me to kill my family," Derek reminded him. 

Nick's hand tightened around his wrist in a brief squeeze, but he didn't say anything about Kate or his family. 

Instead, he asked, "What would Stiles say in a moment like this?" 

"Dunno. That's kind of part of his magic," Derek replied. "I don't know if he'd curse and remind me---or, actually, he'd probably do something completely unexpected. He's always surprising me."

"Sounds like Stiles," Nick said, repeating Derek's words as he smiled. "You guys are good together. I'm excited for you to bond and make it official." 

After throwing a small smile over his shoulder, Derek said, "Me, too. I… I never thought I'd get to this point with him. It's getting harder to leave after every visit." 

"I never thought you'd let it happen," Nick admitted. "I knew he had big feelings for you from the start---just the way he talks about you, he lights up---and I knew you had big feelings for him, but you kept it all locked inside." 

"How did you know… about me?"

Nick snorted. "He was the only one who could hug you without making you flinch, and you watch him all the time," he said. "Cora said you did that in Beacon Hills, too."

"Probably," Derek conceded. 

"How'd you two finally make it happen? I never asked." 

Derek closed his eyes and smiled as he thought about that night at the club and everything that followed when they returned to the den. 

"After Stellah's encore… we were outside your party room, and it just… happened." 

Nick groaned. "I need more details," he insisted. 

"It honestly just happened. We were checking in with each other… and whatever is  _ us _ evolved into more," he said. He shrugged. "It wasn't a big, epic moment. But, it was, in a way. It just… happened." 

"Ugh. I wanted a big epic moment. I wanted to have to disinfect a wall or desk." 

Derek chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint." 

"It's fine. It kind of suits the two of you, to be honest," Nick said. "Easing in, wading in the waters, holding back… eventually you'll both give in and… fireworks!" 

He let go of Derek's wrist and eased Cora away from him. As he eased into a sitting position, his legs bending to match Derek's pose, Cora curled around his waist as she continued to sleep. Nick rested his arms on his knees and looked at Derek. 

"Why didn't you want to run with us?"

Derek bowed his head. "It… well, I'm used to running alone to work things out in my head," he said. 

"And you couldn't do that with company?" Nick asked. 

Not sure how to put his feelings into words, and knowing he probably shouldn't to avoid upsetting the alpha pair, Derek shrugged and rubbed his hands against his thighs. 

"Derek… talk to me," Nick whispered. 

"Do you know why I didn't rush to tell Cora I could shift like Mom?" 

Nick shook his head. "I assumed it had to do with guilt, feeling like you didn't deserve it," he said. 

At that, Derek nodded. "That's part of it. But… the process that kickstarted it was Kate… temporarily de-aging me with a spell or something in some sort of ancient tomb," he said. "After that, when I started losing my abilities, I figured Kate broke me." 

"That had to be awful," Nick said after a sigh. 

He nodded again as he remembered those days before and during the dead pool. He shuddered as his memory touched on the days where he couldn't heal or shift; he had hated feeling so useless that he'd been forced to learn how to use handguns to help protect the pack. 

"It wasn't fun," Derek agreed. 

Nick remained silent. 

"I almost died before I evolved," Derek whispered. "The berserker stabbed me, and I was bleeding out. I sent Stiles away to help Scott---because I knew, back then, he'd never forgive himself or me if something happened to Scott and he wasn't there to try to stop it---and I was bleeding out as the hunters tried to shoot and stop Kate's slaves." 

Nick leaned his shoulder into Derek's shoulder. "God… Derek…" 

"It wasn't a happy moment for me," Derek continued. "I was scared and alone and I probably really died before the magic of the change kicked in and saved me. I don't like talking about it because I remember all of that---how it felt, how it hurt, and how it  _ stopped hurting _ when I was near the end."

"Yeah." 

Derek sighed. The truth was on the tip of his tongue and he knew Nick was going to get to hear it. He hated that he'd fallen into Nick's trap; he hated that he couldn't be stronger and keep it to himself. 

"I didn't tell her right away because I needed to put distance between myself and that experience," he said, dropping his head down between his hunched shoulders. "But, if her experience was so positive, why didn't she feel like she could tell me until now?"

There was a long silence between them, as Derek waited and as Nick probably tried to scramble together some sort of answer, and Cora's soft and sleepy snuffles were the only sound in the immediate area aside from the birds chirping and leaves rustling. Derek wasn't sure what he wanted to hear; he assumed Nick didn't know what to say. 

"It isn't a trust thing," Nick said after a few minutes. "I know she thought about calling and telling you---right away---but when she changed her mind, I just rolled with it. If I had to guess, I think she wanted to surprise you."

Derek winced. "I was surprised." 

"I noticed. And then you got mopey." 

He nodded, because that was the truth and there was no point in hiding it. 

"She's still getting used to having you back in her life, too," Nick added. "And maybe pre-fire Derek would've loved the surprise---or, at least, not hated it. And that's who she thinks she knows. She's spent time with you, but… survival mode in Beacon Hills probably didn't teach either of you who you are now, as adults. And now, you're trying to reconcile who you were with who you are." 

"Maybe," Derek hesitantly agreed, as he thought Nick's words put a kinder spin on events. 

"But, you have to know she wants you here," Nick added. 

"I can't go from one pack that doesn't want me to another where it's the sa---"

Nick reached over, putting his hand on Derek's knee. "Hey, no," he said. "You are wanted. By Cora and me and Stiles. And the rest of the pack is going to love you when they get to know you." 

"Am I just here because Cora wants to win?" Derek asked. "She asked if it would be weird, with her being your mate, and now… I keep thinking…" 

"It isn't a dominance play," Nick assured him. "She wants you here because you're her family. She's not inviting Peter here." 

"You wouldn't let her. And he wouldn't stick around if she just wanted to play a game on him," Derek argued. 

Nick moved his hand from Derek's knee to his shoulder, letting it slide so he could wrap his arm around Derek's back. 

"Dude, that is not happening here," he said. "I promise you. Is that… you didn't know if you could trust me, either?"

"You're the alpha pair. I don't… I haven't seen you in years, either, so when I started thinking about Cora's motives, I wondered if---"

"Hey, hey, I'm still  _ me _ ," Nick interrupted. "Yeah, I'm the alpha and I'm in love with your sister, but this isn't some elaborate game. This is… this is me wanting to protect you for once. I couldn't when we were teenagers. And I couldn't after you went back to Beacon Hills. But I can now." 

"I don't need protecting," Derek said. "I can handle---"

"I don't want you to!" Nick exclaimed. "God, Derek, you've handled enough on your own. You're not our whipping boy or sacrificial lamb---and you never will be." 

As he sat there, in the circle of Nick's arm, Derek nodded and kept his head low. He hadn't noticed any quickening of Nick's pulse---the telltale sign of deception---so his senses were telling him Nick was telling the truth. But, it was hard to apply that to his perception of events. 

"You wanted to run to work all this out?" Nick asked. 

"It's the only thing that usually works," Derek said. "When something happens, I just run. I can stop thinking and it's easier to work things out when I'm done." 

After a sigh, Nick nodded. "I get it. But, you didn't have all the facts this time, man, so I'm glad I stopped you," he said. "You could've kept running." 

"I need to run sometimes, though," Derek said. 

Nick nodded again. "Yeah, of course," he said. "Can you come to me if you have a problem, though? Run when you need to, definitely, but… just let me know where your head's at---even if you're not sure?" 

He wasn't sure how he felt about sharing his thoughts before sorting through them, but he could feel that it was important to Nick. If he had to open up in order to be a part of Nick's pack, he could at least try. 

"No judgement from me," Nick continued. "I just want to know when you're thinking heavy thoughts." 

Derek sighed. "I can try," he said. "I can't promise I'll be any good at it." 

"Trying is all I'm asking for," Nick said. 

As Derek nodded, Nick squeezed him closer with his arm. They steered the conversation towards safer subjects---breakfast and the papers that needed to be signed, followed by the other steps that would be taken as soon as Derek returned to Beacon Hills---as they waited for Cora to wake for the day. 

Derek was still a little unsure, but he knew how badly both Nick and Stiles wanted things to work out for Derek and, even if he wasn't completely sure about Cora's views yet, he didn't want to disappoint any of them by running away. Deep down, he didn't want to run away, either, but his trust issues and fears were formidable opponents to defeat. 

#####

Stiles groaned as he heard the knock on his door. Meals wouldn't be hand-delivered to them every day, but since the contestants were in seclusion from themselves as much as from the world, for at least another few hours, there were some exceptions made for the day. One of those exceptions was breakfast at six o'clock in the morning. 

Entrances into the main set were supposed to start at nine o'clock. Stellah's time to introduce herself to the cameras was set for nine-thirty, and by one o'clock, at the latest, they were supposed to do some sort of introductory challenge. So Stiles assumed he would have to start preparing his costume and look for the day's drag events by six-thirty if he wanted to move at a comfortable pace to ease himself into the rush of competition. 

He padded across the room, unfastened the chain, and cracked the door open. 

Ashleigh was standing there, smiling, with a paper bag and a cup of coffee in her hands. A bottle of water was crammed under her arm. 

"Special delivery, sleepyhead," she said, her smile stretching. 

Stiles opened the door enough that the bag could be passed from her to him. She handed it over, along with the drinks; she tried to offer to bring them inside for him, but Stiles wasn't issuing any invitations into his temporary abode. 

"We've got your things moved into an area of the werk room," she said, unfazed by his refusal. "Anything you'd like us to add to that pile, we can do this morning. You'll need to be ready for eight-thirty, as we're going to start moving people to the soundstage by eight. We'll sequester you in a temporary space until it's your turn to wow the cameras. Hopefully, we'll be ahead of schedule and can move the mini-challenge ahead by an hour or two, but we need to leave room in the day for reshoots and B roll footage." 

Barely processing anything after his decrease in preparatory time, Stiles nodded and tilted his head. "Okay, thanks. I, uh, I'm going to go get ready. Gotta shower---" 

Ashleigh sniffed in that way that almost all young werewolves did when they were still controlling their heightened senses. It reminded him of all the turned wolves he'd known in his time in Beacon Hills, and he wondered if she'd only recently been turned. 

He hoped she had a grip on her control. 

"You smell fine to me," she said, her smile turning into a smirk. 

As his discomfort increased, Stiles' brow furrowed. "Thanks," he said, frowning at her. "Well, if that's it, I better eat and start getting ready." 

Before she could say anything else, Stiles closed the door. He sighed against it. He knew he'd made a point of saying his orientation was atypical of the industry in his audition video and questionnaire, but women being weird at him wasn't something he was used to experiencing when they found out he was a drag queen. There was a chance she was reacting to Derek or Nick, and their scents on him, but it had been a while since he'd been with them and he didn't know how keen her senses were. From what he could remember, it varied based on experience and biology; Malia could track almost anyone from impressive distances, but Scott could barely smell someone in the same room as him. He had no idea where Ashleigh's tracking skills fell on the scale he had in his mind. 

He locked the door and took his breakfast to the table next to the window. His windows were covered by thick curtains, and he'd been told by someone---Jared? Jack? Jeff? something with a 'J'---he was not to pull them open until after the first day and night, so he sat in the artificial light from the nearby lamps and picked apart his meal of muffins and a protein bar. None of that would last very long, and the muffins were too heavy for a morning meal if he were supposed to cinch and pad himself into Stellah's clothing, but he still had to eat enough for energy. 

He sipped his coffee, setting the water aside for later. He was  _ sort of _ sure he could  _ probably _ get a drink of water on set, and he'd rather have most of that bottle of water in his hotel room when he returned at the end of the day. 

After eating the power bar and rinsing the sweet, sticky compound from his mouth with a few sparing sips of water, Stiles tried to spring into action. He held up his outfit and studied it. The black---and sparkly---leggings would hide his padding and slide into his knee-length boots that resembled English riding boots until the thick and high heels. The vest was boned and tight, like a corset, and it would hide his cincher; its deep neck would show off his chest contouring and support the lie that he was in possession of breasts. The vest's high collar would help shadow his adam's apple and the gauzy layers of a blue-and-black half-skirt that fell from the vest hem's sides and back would help hide and support his efforts in padding. The vest and its skirt-like pieces were dusted with little sparkling stones, too; they looked like stars, playing into his Stellah  _ Stardust _ act. 

There was jewelry that matched the outfit---soft leather cuffs with decorations engraved and painted into their surfaces, with a few gems added to help them match, along with a set of sparkling bobby pins he could use to clip back Stellah's hair---and he had a set of nails already painted and stamped to match the theme of his outfit. His makeup would hopefully compliment all of that, but he hadn't decided on colours or the style of lashes he'd use. He had a lot of pairs that were custom-coloured for his costumes; there were red for some of Little Red's most deadly looks, there were blue, teal, and purple lashes to match Stellah's aesthetic, but there were also sparkling and feathered lashes, in addition to the basic black lashes of varying lengths and thicknesses. He was hoping to use a pair that were a mix between  one-ninety-nine's and nine-ninety-nine's,  dyed to match the wig he planned to wear with the outfit. 

Some of his wigs were works of art, and he felt he was far too plain to wear them. Nick and Cora disagreed, of course, so he had a collection of bright galaxy-coloured wigs in addition to some in more normal colours. He'd carefully curled, teased, and stacked two of the wigs that started with a medium ash brown and ended with blue, teal, and purple, all blended together; the hair wasn't  _ huge _ but there was definitely plenty of volume and loose, wavy curls. 

With everything checked, Stiles went into the bathroom and took care of everything. He brushed his teeth and washed his face; then he shaved and cleaned his ears. When that was all finished, he undressed and rubbed lotion onto his way-too-smooth body before checking his blue toenail polish. 

Everything looked good; he was ready to start. 

He started his hair, putting on a wig cap and wrapping a strip of self-adhesive sports tape around his head. Some queens used actual tape, but Stiles  _ haaaated _ pulling tape out of his hair, so he used sports tape that could stretch, pull tight, and only stick to itself. It was a pain to conceal it with his hair, and that pain was worth it at the end of the day when he didn't have to ease regular packing tape (or duct tape) out of his hair. Spirit gum or glue was bad enough---and he kept the sides and back of his head shaved shorter than he used to do before becoming Stellah Stardust. 

When his hair was tucked away, he focused on his face. Gluing his eyebrows was first on his agenda, using one of his purple glue sticks and his favorite translucent powder in layers until the middles and ends of his brows were smoothed down enough that he could eventually paint over them with a more feminine brow shape. Foundation and contouring was next, and he stuck with his traditional Stellah shapes; he made sure it was soft, because he hated hard lines and because he felt his face structure was already too angular, but he still did his best to round his forehead, carve his cheeks, and hide his manly jaw. 

He started on his eyes after he set and covered his face with powder. At first, he kept to basic colours, carving out his elevated crease and adding highlights before finishing his brows in an arched shape; when he finished with those tasks, he looked at his palettes of colour. His clothes were black and blue; his wig had blues, purples, and teals in it. He made the decision to use purples and teals for his eyeshadows, along with liquid black eyeliner and a pair of thick lashes with Stellah's signature colours lightly streaked through them. 

After checking the clock, he settled in to finish his eyes. He hummed as he worked, getting lost in the routine. He may have been anxious about the day, but putting Stellah's makeup on his face was familiar and calming. 

#####

"How'd you even get a notary to come here so early?" Derek asked. 

Nick grinned at him. "Money. I knew you have to get back, and we want you to meet some of the pack before you go... so I paid extra," he explained. 

Nodding, Derek sipped his coffee. He and Nick were sitting in his home office, waiting for the papers to arrive so they could transfer ownership of Derek's building to one of Antonio Sorrentino's companies. However, Derek felt like he couldn't focus; his mind was fuzzy and full. 

They'd ambled back to the house in the early dawn light, with Cora, and separated to shower and dress; Cora was in the kitchen, putting together a large order for breakfast, so she was on duty to let the notary into the house when they arrived. Derek was relieved he hadn't had to spend too much time with her since they returned because he wasn't sure what she'd overheard and he also didn't know how to act around her. 

He still wanted to run. Nick's conversation had helped to settle him a little, but it had also given him even more to ponder. The morning chat added to his insecurities and suspicions, which were piled on top of his love and anxiety for Stiles. Spending the afternoon and night outside, as a wolf, had eased off some of the immediateness of his feelings---but they were still there. He could feel nature calling to him and he could feel his desire to be outside calling back; it was a metaphysical conversation that itched under his skin. 

Cora interrupted their mostly silent moment. She brought a young man into the office; he showed his identification and produced a package of papers that Antonio must have had delivered. Everything went smoothly, Derek signing and initialling where required---

\---until he reached the pages pertaining to payment. 

"That's not what we'd agreed," Derek said. "It's practically double." 

Nick hummed and leaned into Derek to look at the amounts listed on the page. "I'll call him," he said. 

As soon as the call connected, Antonio said,  _ "Yes, it's the amount I intended." _

"I don't need your charity, sir," Derek replied. 

Antonio's amusement was softened through two smartphones, but Derek could still hear him chuckling. _ "Sir. Ha. It's not charity. That building is going to earn me a lot of money after I refurbish it," _ he said.  _ "It's the first in a list of sites in Beacon Hills that interest me." _

"Why?" Derek asked. 

_ "Why not?" _ Antonio replied. He chuckled again.  _ "I want to know what's going on there," _ he said.  _ "I have no intention of stepping foot in Beacon County any time soon, but I can start building a small, secure foothold in case any of us need to be there for any reason." _

_ "Admit it, you just want to piss all over the kid's territory without having to get on a plane."  _

At the sound of Jeremy's voice, Derek's heart clenched in his chest. He'd been the one to help piece Laura and Derek back together after the fire; his pack had helped, but it was Jeremy who sat up and kept them company when they'd had nightmares, and it was Jeremy who'd tried to teach them how to be a pack, just the two of them. He hadn't spoken with Jeremy in a long time---not since Monroe's reign of terror, to warn him of the new and overly aggressive hunters---and he could admit to himself that he'd missed the man. 

_ "Well, you're not wrong about that," _ Antonio conceded.  _ "Sign the papers, Derek. Everything else we discussed is exactly the same." _

If it were anyone else, he might have argued or insisted on reading every line of every page. It was Antonio, though, and he and Derek had pounded out sale and rental agreements that satisfied their needs. Antonio was Jeremy's second and Nick's father; he had never acted in a way that suggested he couldn't be trusted. He signed the papers and the process continued. The notary, whose name was Jonathan, kept them on schedule, working efficiently and in an organised manner. By the time money was exchanged and titles were prepared to be transfered, Derek wanted another cup of coffee but he wanted to stay and talk with Jeremy, too. 

Nick took Jonathan to the front of the house when they were finished, leaving Derek with his phone, Jeremy, Antonio, and proof that he received a large sum of money for the building where he lived. 

_ "Derek?" _ Jeremy asked. 

"I'm still here." 

_ "How are you?"  _

Derek bit back a snort. "I… that's a loaded question right now," he admitted. "I'm sorry we're borrowing Clay---" 

_ "Don't worry about it," _ Jeremy cut into Derek's apology.  _ "Clay offered to help. We all understand. Stiles is Nicky's emissary and he's your mate. It's hard for both of you to be separated from him for so long without knowing if he's okay." _

Antonio spoke next.  _ "How long will he be gone?" _ he asked. 

"Approximately six weeks," Derek replied. 

_ "If it gets bad, go stay in his apartment," _ Jeremy advised.  _ "His scent will calm you down." _

Derek sighed and rubbed his hands over his head. "Honestly, privacy issues aside, that might not be an option," he said. "I'll have to go back to Beacon Hills soon. Scott took his pack camping for the long weekend, but they won't be gone forever." 

Jeremy's sigh mirrored Derek's feelings on the matter. He wasn't completely sure of his place with Nick's pack, but he knew he didn't belong with Scott's pack; he hated leaving San Francisco to return to Beacon Hills and pretend that was his place. It chafed his heart. 

_ "I'll be glad when you don't have to go back there," _ Jeremy said.  _ "I know why you did in the beginning, and I supported and respected your decision, but you deserve to be with people who love you." _

"And we love him lots," Nick said as he walked back into the office, Cora on his heels. 

_ "Like pack should," _ Antonio rumbled in agreement. 

_ "What's been happening in Beacon Hills?"  _ Jeremy asked.  _ "Has there been anything happening that we should worry about?" _

"A wendigo came through a few months ago," Derek replied. "The pack's gotten a bit bigger over the years… not too big. Nowhere close to the pack here, I'm guessing."

_ "It's not about the size of the pack but the size of the pack's heart," _ Antonio commented. 

"They're a very tight-knit group, as far as I can tell," Derek said. 

Cora rolled her eyes. "Please. If McCall was any sort of alpha, he'd know Derek's not happy there---and he'd try to fix it." 

"I don't think he knows how to make the pack bond effective," Derek said, trying to soften Cora's opinion. "I'm not an easy beta---they're mostly bitten, they don't have my baggage---"

"Stop making excuses for him---and you!" Cora exclaimed. "You're a great beta! I know that, Nick knows that. Just because McCall's a true alpha, it doesn't mean his way is the best way. The Sheriff never would've been killed if he did his job and protected his whole pack!" 

Nick kissed the top of Cora's head and rubbed her back before he went to Derek's side and pulled him into his side. 

"It wasn't your fault," Nick murmured. "I know it, Cora knows it, Stiles knows it. I want you here… I know we'll be good for you." 

Derek nodded. Nick's words soothed the agitation Cora's words stirred up inside of him. 

_ "Have you learned anything new about that?" _ Antonio asked. 

"No, my last private eye was basically chased out of town," Nick replied. "If you're bringing in a crew to renovate, when you do, maybe…"

_ "Already ahead of you on that," _ Antonio said.  _ "I have someone in mind to oversee the project. If you want to send someone, too, it might be a good opportunity." _

"I wanted to send someone sooner, to distract the pack from Derek's activities if they're paying attention, but I can wait---"

Antonio interrupted.  _ "No, no, send them now. If their attention's divided, they might not notice Derek packing up the Hale vault." _

Derek nodded. He wanted what little attention the pack paid him to be focused on someone else. He wasn't worried about Liam, Mason, or the other youngsters because they weren't keen observers as far as he could tell; he was worried about Jordan, Malia, Peter, and Lydia, though. Jordan and Malia would go straight to Scott with their assumptions (or findings). Peter would try to figure out how to make Derek's defection work for him---if he weren't already trying to do that. Lydia was a wild card, and Derek couldn't predict what she'd do. 

If they suspected someone was digging into the death of John Stilinski, again, they might focus on that instead of the contents of the vault or loft. 

_ "Has Peter… indicated he knows what's happening?" _ Jeremy asked. 

"Nothing yet, but… Peter's… Peter," Derek replied. "He might know what I'm up to, he might be trying to figure out how to use that information for himself." 

_ "Does he visit you or the vault?" _

"The vault… sometimes," Derek admitted. "He hasn't been by the loft since the last pack meeting. He definitely didn't go camping, though, so maybe he's there now. Who knows." 

_ "What's there that could give you away?" _ Jeremy asked. 

"Nothing. My phone's with me. The flash drive with the pictures from Nick's friend is on my keychain. The empty boxes are in my trunk."

Nick squeezed Derek's shoulder. "We're trying to cover all our bases," he said. "We don't want anything bad to happen to Derek." 

_ "Good. You might be an alpha, but you're not too powerful for me to treat you like an unruly pup if Derek gets hurt,"  _ Antonio said. 

Biting back a smile, Derek bowed his head. Nick laughed and leaned into him. 

"You sure about that, old man?" Nick teased. 

Antonio chuckled over the line.  _ "Yeah, I'm sure. Derek's family. You take care of him---and if you need help, you call," _ he said. 

"Yes, Tonio, of course," Nick agreed. "Cora and the pack are helping." 

"And speaking of the pack, some of the elders are coming for breakfast," Cora reminded them. 

Derek cleared his throat. "Would it be okay if I talk to Jeremy and Antonio alone for a minute?" 

After another squeeze to his shoulder, Nick said, "Of course. Yeah."

Cora smiled at him. "Sure. Come meet us when you're ready," she offered. 

He nodded and waited for them to leave the room, before he turned his attention back to the phone call. They'd known his mother, they'd known his family; he hoped they would be able to reassure him that he was doing the right thing. 

_ "Derek?" _

Jeremy's voice prompted him into action. He cleared his throat again and sat down at the desk. 

"I'm here," he said. "I just don't know where to start." 

_ "Is this about Beacon Hills?"  _ he asked. 

"Yeah… I… when I had Peter use Mom's claws on me, she told me we were meant to be the protectors of Beacon Hills," Derek said. He looked down at his hands. "I feel like I'm betraying her by even considering---" 

Antonio made a low, soft sound in his throat before he spoke.  _ "Your mom… she was a force of nature, y'know?" _ he said.  _ "Headstrong… god, when we started getting into it---whatever the 'it' was---she was so passionate and sure and she'd go all night, if that's what it took to convince us. _

_ "But, she also listened. And she compromised. If she were wrong, or if something changed, she'd adjust her opinion or plan," _ he continued.  _ "I have no doubt in my mind that she'd be thrilled you and Cora found a pack where you could be happy." _

Jeremy hummed. Then, he said,  _ "I know how she felt about Beacon County. The nemeton… it's a complicated place. And she didn't trust anyone else to protect it. In return for her protection and loyalty, the power… it rewarded her, I guess. There was a bond between her and that point of convergence." _

"Like magic?" Derek asked. 

_ "I think so," _ Jeremy replied.  _ "She never went into detail… but it sounded like there was something." _

Searching back through his memories of his mother, Derek thought Jeremy's assessment could be correct. There had always been serene and aware energy surrounding Talia Hale. She just knew when things were happening. It had changed after the tree had been cut down, but she'd still been stronger and smarter than any other alpha he'd encountered. 

_ "I always thought that was why the tree was cut down," _ Jeremy added. 

Derek sighed. "Yeah… makes sense." 

_ "If the bond is a blood bond, I understand why she'd suggest you stay," _ Antonio said.  _ "It would be in you, as her son. In Cora, too."  _

_ "There may be a time when you two have to go back, though I'm not hoping for that," _ Jeremy added.  _ "It would be a dire situation." _

"More dire than Peter killing Laura?"

Jeremy's huff of breath could be heard over the line.  _ "A nemeton draws power to it. When it's whole, there's a focus---like control. When it's been damaged…" _

Derek nodded, remembering some of what had happened during his time in Beacon Hills. 

_ "But, you're miserable with McCall's pack, and it's not working for you," _ Jeremy continued talking.  _ "I have no doubt in my mind that Talia would support your decision. She may have had some sort of connection to the territory, but she valued family above all else. You and Cora coming together after so much---and in a pack whose alpha considers you family already---is something she would support wholeheartedly." _

"I… yeah, maybe," Derek conceded. 

_ "What's going on, Derek?"  _ he asked. 

"There's a lot on my mind. I… I can't sort it all out," he admitted. 

_ "Are you having doubts about Cora? Nick?" _ Jeremy asked. 

"I'm having doubts in my ability to make a good decision," Derek said. 

Both Jeremy and Antonio sighed at Derek's response, but it was Antonio who spoke first.  _ "What is your gut saying?"  _ he asked. 

As he tried to sift through his thoughts, Derek closed his eyes. His gut had been what started it all, back when he'd been visiting Cora every few months for one of their awkward reunited siblings weekends. She and Nick and Stiles had been a balm for his agitation. 

"I… as soon as I started coming here, it felt easier to breathe. I thought… if Nick would just let me keep visiting Cora and Stiles, it would help me cope," Derek replied. "When Nick made the offer to join his pack… my gut said 'yes.' Right away. Even if it would be difficult to make the switch." 

_ "Sounds like something's changed," _ Antonio said. 

Derek sighed. "It's just sibling stuff. And my own issues, I guess," he said. "Nick's trying to sort me out." 

_ "What's going on?" _ Jeremy asked. 

"I don't know," Derek said. "I'm afraid, I guess. I haven't had much luck with packs, and I'm… worried this is going to be the same." 

He heard both of them exhale, and he tensed as he waited for one of them to speak. He knew he wasn't a great wolf. He tried to improve and get his life together; he thought he'd made enough progress to be a good enough mate for Stiles. But, one day and one surprise managed to derail him from the stable certainty he thought he possessed. 

_ "Tell Nick to give you a hug for me, would you?" _ Antonio said. 

Derek blinked down at Nick's phone. 

_ "From me, too," _ Jeremy added.  _ "Derek, doubts are normal. We all have doubts. And you experienced something that rocked your world---multiple times---so it's perfectly understandable that you still struggle to trust yourself." _

"I keep trying to be better, but---"

_ "You don't need to be  _ better _ ," _ Jeremy said, interrupting him.  _ "There is nothing wrong with you. You're not broken." _

"But, Stiles deser---"

_ "I suspect Stiles will agree with us," _ Jeremy said.  _ "So will Nick and Cora." _

Antonio took a turn to speak.  _ "There's nothing wrong with trying to heal---in fact, I am so proud of you already for the progress you've made," _ he said.  _ "But, remember: the people who love you, we love you unconditionally. I promise you we look at you and see  _ you  _ and not a sum of pros and cons." _

_ "And if living in San Francisco doesn't work out, you can always come here,"  _ Jeremy said.  _ "So, you have a fallback plan." _

Antonio's words made his eyes fill with tears; Jeremy's words made him snuffle out a little laugh. He wiped at his face and tried to smooth away his tears and smile. 

"Stiles will stay here, but I'll keep that in mind," Derek replied.

_ "Don't worry about the power of the mating bond---surrender to it," _ Jeremy advised.  _ "Stiles isn't completely mundane. He'll feel it, too, I bet. And he strikes me as the devoted type, anyway." _

Derek agreed, but he would never force Stiles from his pack or his career. 

_ "Your mom would be proud of you, Derek. Just like we're proud of you, but probably more, knowing her,"  _ Antonio said.  _ "Talk to Nick. And Cora. I know it's hard, you aren't close right now, but I can personally attest to the fact that she's happy you're going to be together and pack again." _

"And not in a 'now I can get revenge' way?" Derek asked, cringing as the words left his mouth. 

_ "No, never," _ Antonio assured him.  _ "Talk to her, Derek." _

He frowned as he looked away from the phone and desk. He was unsure if he could have that conversation with Cora. Giving his thoughts a voice in Nick's company had been difficult; in Cora's conscious company it would be more than difficult. 

_ "And go to Stiles' place for a few minutes before you head back," _ Jeremy added.  _ "A whiff of his scent will help." _

"I've been trying to go cold turkey, so I don't accidentally go back to Beacon Hills smelling like him," Derek said, bringing a hand up to rub at his chest. 

_ "It might soothe you," _ Jeremy said. 

"Maybe," Derek said, more to please Jeremy than to tell the truth. 

_ "Will you think about what we've said?"  _ Jeremy asked. 

After a shaky exhalation, Derek nodded and said, "Yeah. Yes. Thanks for taking the time---" 

_ "Knock it off, kid," _ Antonio interrupted.  _ "Just take care of yourself and let us know when you and Stiles are back for good. We'll visit."  _

At the idea of the two packs getting together, Derek smiled. He didn't even know everyone in Nick's pack, but he was sure it would be an interesting time. He wondered how Antonio and Jeremy liked Stiles---and how they interacted with him. Stiles was certainly more settled than he'd ever been as a teenager, but his energy seemed so… well, energetic---especially in comparison to Jeremy's easygoing, quiet demeanor. 

He hoped he'd still be around to witness that. 

"Sounds good," Derek agreed. "I better…" He strained his attention, catching sounds of cars pulling into the driveway. "Yeah, the pack is just getting here. Or some of them. I don't really know who's coming." 

Jeremy chuckled.  _ "Soon enough, you'll know all their scents and names,"  _ he said.  _ "Call me soon, okay? I'd like to hear how you're doing."  _

He wasn't Derek's alpha, but he was an alpha. Also, he'd been one of his mother's closest friends. Derek sensed it wasn't an  _ order _ , but he could tell it wasn't a suggestion, either. Jeremy wanted to stay in contact, and Derek promised he would---because that was what one did for friends of one's mother who were also alpha werewolves. 

"Yeah, okay. I'll call you soon," he confirmed. "Thanks… and yeah. Okay. Bye." 

It wasn't his cleanest dismount, but it would have to do. 

#####

Stiles looked at his panties, tape, and gaffe. He sighed. It wasn't even eight o'clock in the morning---way too early for a tight tuck---and he knew he'd probably be in drag all day---which meant he'd be tucked most of the day, too. 

His dick and balls would not be happy with him. 

He was suddenly very glad he stopped drinking his coffee---and only had a couple sips of his water. 

Before he locked himself up to become Stellah, he took his white platforms into the bathroom and locked the door. He turned on the overhead fan and opened the secret compartment. His phone was intact; it powered on as soon as he pressed the button, and once it was on and connected to the wireless network, it displayed a few messages from Nick and Derek. 

From Nick, he'd received:  _ good luck! _ ,  _ A buying the building---step one in progress! _ , and  _ we're introducing D to some of the pack today. _

From Derek, he'd received:  _ Thinking of you _ , and  _ Good luck today - knock 'em dead _ . 

Stiles smiled and bowed his head as he typed out a few quick replies. 

To Derek, he wrote:  _ Hey, you! Miss your scrufftastic face. About to get dressed and go to work. Hope today goes well. Be careful and take care of yourself. And remember you can trust your family. Rooting for you! And thinking of you pretty much full time (insert smooch faces here) <3 _

To Nick, he wrote:  _ Assuming the sale went well? Is A going to do anything with the building or just lock 'em out? How's J/A? I'm okay. Didn't think this through. Tucking. Ugh. Take care of Derek for me? He sounded bad-funny yesterday. You said you're on it. I trust you. Just… he's not the best at asking for help. Kinda gotta ease him into it, y'know? Okay. I know, I know. You're the alpha and you care about him. I know. Sorry. I worry. Love you all lots!  _

By the time he finished with Nick's message, there was an emoji heart from Derek (and did he always know how to use emojis?) so Stiles sent one back to him and shut off the phone. Then, he tucked it back into the foam-lined compartment in the platform of his boot and made sure the sole was locked. He set the boot on the counter, gave his bladder one last hurrah, and then danced around in front of the toilet with his boxer briefs down around his knees---and then his ankles when he moved too much. 

He washed up, turned off the fan, and left the privacy of the bathroom. He tucked his boots into a mesh bag with the ragged clothes he kept for sleeping, rehearsing, and going to the gym; he tucked the bag into the closet, hoping it would look unimportant, and looked back at his tucking supplies. 

"Okay, Little Stiles… let's get this show on the road," he muttered. 

He rolled his eyes and got to work. 

Once his boy bits were tucked and trapped, he moved onto his clothes. Padding was first, accompanied by the undergarments that would hold the padding in place. He checked his body in the room's mirrors; he wanted to make sure the additions to his ass, hips, and thighs were in place. As soon as he was satisfied that Stellah's body wouldn't look deformed, he put on his leggings and the camisole (with a small amount of padding to mimic breasts) that would cover his hosiery and cushioning. 

His boots were the next item he donned. Then, the vest with its long skirt-like pieces---very carefully so he didn't smudge the makeup on his face when he adjusted the collar. 

His wig should have been the next piece of the puzzle to be added, but he heard someone in the hallway and he was reminded of Ashleigh. Jewelry moved up on the list; he rummaged around in his drawers until he found the bags of mountain ash and wolfsbane, and then he snagged his hollow pendant. After pouring a little of each inside, he snapped it shut and examined it. The surface wasn't stoned, so he decided he'd put it on a long chain with Derek's ring and tuck them both into his vest. The silver chain would catch the light and (hopefully) distract from his lack of real cleavage---and it would match the rhinestones on his skirt pieces. 

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added the rest of his jewelry. 

As soon as he secured his wig to his head and made sure there were no bubbles or flaps where the spirit gum tacked the wig's lace to his skin, he stood in front of the mirror and assessed his appearance as Stellah. 

Something was missing… 

"Shit! Nails!"

He hurried to his makeup kit, found the fake nails he'd painted and stamped before leaving San Francisco, and pulled out his nail adhesive stickers. It took some careful fiddling, but by the time someone knocked on his door and shouted that he had five minutes, all ten nails were secured on the tips of his fingers. 

Back in front of the mirror, Stiles applied a bit more lipstick and added a bit of gloss to the centre of his lower lip. Then, he stepped back and nodded. 

Stellah was ready. 

#####

"Here, let me help," Derek said as he got to his feet and took a few empty plates from Theresa's hands. 

She smiled at him. "They're not heavy, but they are awkward. Thanks," she replied, following him to the kitchen. 

The sounds of conversation followed them as they walked. Derek has been itching to get away from the table for thirty minutes; he was sick of answering questions about himself and of feeling as if he were on the outside, looking in on a family that wasn't his own. He hoped he could hide in the kitchen and start doing the dishes, proving he could contribute as well as getting away from everyone in the dining room. 

He brought the plates to the large kitchen sink. Without a look at the dishwasher, he turned on the taps and reached for the dish soap. 

Theresa put a hand on his shoulder. "Old fashioned guy, or are you looking for a reason to escape scrutiny?" she asked. 

Her direct and accurate question startled a snort out of him. 

"Both," he admitted. 

She laughed softly and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Fair enough," she said. "I'll start bringing the rest of the dishes in, you get started on suds and scrub duty." 

He was rinsing off his third plate when Theresa returned. She'd roped one of the children, a human boy named Matty, into helping her; he was carrying two handfuls of used cutlery, while Theresa carried a few more plates and a couple of glasses. 

"Thanks, baby," she murmured. "If you bring in the condiment dishes and salt and pepper shakers, then you and the others can go outside if you want." 

Matty frowned. "Why don't they help?" 

"Because I'm asking you," Theresa replied. "It will be their turns another day." 

With a huff, Matty left the kitchen. Theresa walked up to Derek's side, adding the dishes to the side of the sink, and then she moved to his other side and picked up a towel with which she started drying the plates Derek had finished. 

"Kids," she murmured. 

Derek smiled. "Is he one of yours?" he asked. 

She nodded. "Yes… he, Yvonne, and Chris. The two teenagers are werewolves. Matty's my human miracle," she said. She tilted her head, smiled a bit, and added, "It was a rough pregnancy." 

Unsure of the appropriate response, Derek asked, "You're all right now?" 

She nodded again. "Oh, yes. Thanks. We're good," she replied. She leaned into him for a brief moment. "I'm going to go help him bring in the last of it and then I'll get back to drying. You're good here?" 

"I'll hold the fort down," Derek murmured. 

After a little chuckle, Theresa slipped away from him. 

Derek lost himself in the manual work. He was aware enough to thank Matty when he brought in a few more items from the dining room, but he didn't notice Theresa's return until she picked up the towel again and settled in at his side. 

She was quiet for a few minutes, seemingly content to work alongside Derek, but when Derek switched from plates to cutlery, she resumed their conversation. 

"How are you liking it here?" she asked. 

"It's nice," Derek replied. 

"Nice? C'mon. You know I'm gonna have to ask for more than that," she said, a teasing tone in her voice. 

Derek smiled and glanced at her before returning his gaze to his task. "It's bigger than where I live now, so definitely noisier, but I love how Nick has this place, too," he said. "He seems to have a great pack, if the rest are anything like you and the others." 

Theresa hummed. "Yeah, we're a pretty good group. Not without our issues, but we generally try to live a safe and quiet life," she agreed. 

"Is this where you ask me my intentions?" Derek inquired. 

She laughed softly. "Sort of," she admitted. "I like asking questions and listening to the answers. Trying to figure people out. Occupational hazard." 

"Journalist?" Derek guessed. 

"Psychologist," she said. 

He nodded. "Oh. You're the one Stiles---" 

"I can neither confirm nor deny---" 

"---mentioned," Derek continued. 

She smiled. "Probably," she said. "Why were you hypothetically talking about me?" 

Derek sucked in a slow deep breath before he admitted, "Hypothetically, I was talking with him about seeing someone. Professionally. For my own issues." 

He was rewarded with another smile. Theresa nodded, then, and leaned into him. "I would make time for you, if you're interested," she said, "once you're here and settled. Sometimes it's good to talk things out with an impartial party. 

"And, yes, I can be impartial," she said before Derek could question her. "Nick has never asked me about my practice or my patients, and he promised he never would. I don't record my sessions, and my notes are written on a tablet that has never been and will never be connected to the internet. When I move my notes to hard drive file storage, I have an air-gapped system that lets me do that." 

While that reassured him that anything he said was probably safe from Nick and anyone who thought about hacking into her notes to find out about the pack, it didn't convince him that what she knew didn't influence her decisions or guidance as one of Nick's elders. 

"But… it's in your head," he said. 

Theresa nodded. "It is," she conceded. "All I can tell my patients is that I will try my absolute best to keep my profession in the regular world and my position in the pack as separate as possible---and it's up to them to decide if they want to proceed." 

He nodded, too, processing what she'd told him. His concerns were rooted in what could be said or done to him if the rest of the pack found out about his past. He lived as cleanly as he could, presently, and he hoped he could continue to do that; however, he was worried about what the rest of the pack would think about him if they learned how he'd been responsible for his family's destruction or how he'd made a mess of his chance to have his own pack. 

Derek didn't want his mistakes to reflect poorly on Stiles, Cora, or Nick. 

"You don't need to decide right away," Theresa said. "Just remember I'm available if you'd like to talk to someone. If you'd like to continue to heal." 

"Heal?" Derek repeated. 

"I do know about your family," she said. "And Nick and Cora have suggested there's been some less than pleasant things happening in Beacon County over the last decade." 

After a couple nods, Derek bowed his head. "Yeah. I have a great resumé," he muttered. 

Theresa pressed in against him, smoothing her hand over his upper back. It was a gesture of comfort and he relaxed into it. Nothing in her actions or chemosignals suggested she had ulterior motives. 

"You do, actually. Nick and Cora can't stop raving about you---and Stiles gets stars and hearts in his eyes when your name comes up. You helped put a stop to those packs of hunters a few years back. You protected shifters and humans against a variety of threats and at great peril. You gave up your alpha power to save your sister. God, Derek. That is… I mean, it sounds like an obvious choice---but it isn't, not always," she murmured. "Remind yourself of the good you've done when you're dwelling on things that you believe are your fault, okay?" 

It was a variation on a theme he'd heard from Stiles, Nick, and Cora---and Braeden, although she'd gotten her point across with a story about one of her marshall friends instead of his own experiences. Derek nodded, because he knew that was expected of him no matter how he felt, and he leaned into her a little to test how it would feel to seek comfort from someone new. 

"How much do I owe you for this session?" he asked. 

Theresa chuckled and reached for a glass that Derek had washed. "This one's on the house," she said. "It's how I hook people." 

"Good business model." 

She grinned at him. "C'mon. Let's finish this up so we can go watch the kids take Nick down in a very high contact game of soccer," she suggested. 

Derek grimaced. "That sounds like something Nick will make me participate in." 

Her grin brightened. "Excellent."

"I don't play soccer," he protested. 

Theresa's reply was a loud laugh. 

#####

Clay Danvers was standing at the end of the hall. 

Tightening his grip on his makeup case and duffel bag, Stiles blinked as they stared at each other. Clay had never seen Stiles dressed as Stellah; his eyes were as wide as Stiles felt his were. The last time Jeremy and his pack came to visit, he and Nick had booked off time so they could spend the full moon weekend bonding and celebrating the alliance Nick and Jeremy had formally forged. 

"You gonna gawk or do your job?" Jake barked. 

Clay blinked at the production assistant. "Sorry," he said. "The coast is clear. The last contestant came through five minutes ago."

"If you make the rest of the girls uncomfortable---"

"Not uncomfortable at all," Stiles said as he grinned and fluttered his eyelashes. "This guy's so cute, I just needed a minute to take him all in." 

"Right back atcha, little lady," Clay drawled as he smirked and winked. 

Jake frowned. 

As if he understood Jake's confusion, Clay spoke again. "Not strayin' or causin' trouble," he promised. "I just like to appreciate pretty sights." 

"As long as that's all it is…" Jake stipulated. 

"I promise," Clay said. 

Taking Clay at his word, he said, "Can you take her to the car? And make sure she puts on the blindfold in the elevator."

"Sure," Clay agreed. 

Jake didn't let them go until he confirmed with Stiles that it was fine. Stiles tried not to seem too eager, but he really wanted to talk to Clay and find out why he was in Los Angeles and working for the team running the competition. He couldn't do that with Jake at his side. 

They stayed silent until they were in the elevator. As soon as the doors slid shut, Stiles whirled around so he was facing Clay. 

"What the hell?"

Clay snorted. "Hullo to you, too, princess," he said. 

"Clay!"

"Official story is I'm just traveling and looking for work," he said. "A friend of a friend got me in with the company that does security and errands work for the show." 

"Unofficial story?" Stiles asked. 

Clay shrugged. "Nick didn't want you here alone," he said. "I offered to be a part of his plans." 

"This had to be in the works---"

"For a while," Clay confirmed. "He's got his pack working on getting Derek home, so he didn't want to send a guard away."

Stiles relaxed and turned back to the elevator doors as they opened onto another hallway. Knowing how security should work, Stiles lingered and waited until Clay stepped out and checked the hallway before following him out of the chamber. 

He held up the blindfold---a pair of sunglasses whose frames were blacked out and whose arms were wide like blinkers to block out everything. "Gotta put these on," he said. "Will it wreck your makeup?"

Stiles held up his kit. "Shouldn't, but I have my gear," he said. 

When Stiles' vision was nearly completely blocked, Clay took his case and bag and started guiding him through the next space. Stiles didn't tense; he kept his focus on walking in his high heeled boots without falling and he let Clay focus on navigation.

"You know there's a werewolf---"

"Ashleigh."

"Yeah," Clay said. "She's a piece of work. Very intense." 

"How'd that go?" Stiles asked. 

"Fine. She thinks I left my pack and am looking for a new one," he replied. "I asked about hers, and she said she has one… but something seems off. I think she's a mutt." 

_ Mutt _ was another term for  _ omega. _ That didn't surprise Stiles; Robbie seemed surprised by the sight of her, and he hadn't waved or done anything else that resembled a greeting between packmates. 

"All right. Well, I'll keep that in mind," Stiles said. 

"And keep wearing that mountain ash and wolfsbane," Clay advised. 

"Oh! Shit! I'm sor---"

Clay slowed them to a stop. "Don't worry about it," he interrupted. "I'd rather you have it on you."

He opened a door and guided Stiles through it. His steps and the increasing sound of a running engine echoed; he guessed they were in the hotel's underground parking lot. 

"You look great, by the way," Clay added. "Way prettier than Nick." 

Stiles grinned. "I'll tell him you said that." 

"So will I," Clay said, chuckling. 

Before he opened the car door and helped Stiles inside, Clay squeezed his arm. "Good luck today," he whispered. 

"Thanks," Stiles murmured. "I feel better knowing you're here with me."

Clay squeezed his arm one more time, then he opened the car door door and ushered Stiles and his gear into the vehicle. Stiles sighed and leaned back against the seat. 

"Ready?" 

At the sound of the driver's voice, Stiles nodded. "Yeah. Let's get this show on the road." 

The driver, a man as far as Stiles could tell, chuckled and put the car into gear. Minutes later, he felt the warmth of the sun against his skin and he heard the sounds of street traffic. 

#####

As Derek sat down and watched Nick crawl to the deck with two kids hanging off of him, he smiled. He forgot how a pack could be when they weren't constantly under threat; he forgot about the good times with his family when he was a child. Seeing Nick play as if he were a kid, too, brought back all those feelings and memories. 

Cora settled in at his side. She rested her head on his shoulder; even with his mixed-up feelings, Derek still turned his head and tucked his face into her hair. She smelled like the forest and spice, underneath the scents of pack and Nick, something that hadn't changed from childhood to adulthood. It comforted Derek. 

"You good?" she asked.

"I'm working on it," he replied. 

She nodded but didn't say anything else. 

The rest of their guests from the pack were still scattered around them on the deck. Some were talking and laughing; some were quietly enjoying the sunshine. 

Nick deposited his passengers by their parents and made his way over to Derek and Cora. He squeezed Cora's shoulder and settled down next to her. In response, she hummed from her position against Derek. 

"Good day," Nick mused. 

Cora nodded. "We should do this more often," she suggested. "Mix up who comes so we get the whole pack here over a month or two."

Nick snorted. "Yeah? And when you start complaining about wanting your mornings back?"

She lifted her head and rolled her eyes. "Better than hosting the whole pack more than twice a month," she said. 

Derek asked, "How many are in the pack?"

"Thirty-two," Nick said, putting his hand on Cora's thigh. Something of Derek's surprise must have shown on his face, because Nick laughed. "Human spouses and a few families with children help with that. It'll change over time."

"Still…" 

"That's why I ask for help from the pack elders," Nick explained. "They help with the day-to-day stuff. Check-ins. Minor issues. Stuff like that."

It made sense, Derek supposed. Nick would struggle to run his businesses if he were in constant contact with thirty-two people; a system of elders would give the pack a connection and representation, while keeping Nick in the loop without overwhelming him. Derek also imagined that the position of elder was an honour and would likely allow the more experienced and successful pack members to feel as if they had some power. In larger packs that were run traditionally, fights for dominance weren't unusual; Nick's sharing of power through appointed positions could help keep those rifts from developing. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Nick's phone rang. He winced as he shifted away from Cora and pulled out the device. 

"Oh!" He said, looking down at the screen. He grinned and put the phone to his ear. "Please tell me you're the surprise contestant." 

Clay's accented voice was unmistakable to Derek's ears, even through the phone's speaker and distance.

_ "Never, man," _ he said.  _ "Security and gopher work is as close as I'll get."  _

"Bummer," Nick replied. Clay cussed at him and he laughed. "What's up?"

_ "Just wanna let you know I saw Stiles. He's fine. Heading over to do the opening thing. Put him in his car myself." _

Derek zeroed in on his conversation after that, letting his surroundings fall from his awareness at the sound of any information about Stiles. 

"Thanks, man," Nick replied. "Any issues?"

_ "Well, the groping is unpleasant---of me, not Stiles," _ Clay said.  _ "He was a perfect, uh, lady, too. All the other contestants, though. Handsy doesn't even begin to describe them!" _

Nick smiled and huffed. "You're like catnip to a lot of them. Big ol' manly top like you," he teased. 

_ "Ha." _

"Seriously, though," Nick said. "Thank you for doing this." 

_ "I know you and Derek would have my back if I needed help for Elena," _ Clay said.  _ "She'd kick my ass for suggesting she need help, of course, but---" _

"She'd kick ours, too," Derek muttered, eliciting a laugh from both Cora and Nick. 

_ "Derek's not wrong," _ Clay agreed. He sighed.  _ "I gotta go, but I just wanted to touch base and let you know I'm here and on the job." _

"Okay. Have a good day---and thank you again," Nick said. "Love you, brother." 

_ "Me, too," _ Clay replied before ending the call. 

Nick smiled and pocketed his phone---as Derek's started to ring. He looked at it and saw that it was Scott. Shoulders dropping, Derek resigned himself to a few minutes of unpleasantness. 

"Guys! Silence for a few minutes!" Nick called out to the pack members scattered around his deck and yard. 

As an eerie silence fell over his surroundings, Derek answered the call. 

"Scott? Is everyone okay?"

_ "Where are you?" _

"Cora called for some family documents," Derek said, which allowed him to feel truthful. "I told your mom---"

_ "Isn't that done already?" _ Scott asked.  _ "How many papers can there possibly be?" _

Derek rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted that Scott had any idea of the bureaucracy a large family could create over five years---let alone the decades the Hales have lived in Beacon County. 

"Quite a few," Derek said. 

_ "We need you here to protect the territory when the pack's away," _ Scott insisted.  _ "Maybe just send everything to Cora." _

Derek frowned. He could comment on Scott's first statement or on his second. He clearly wasn't considered a part of Scott's pack anymore, judging by what Scott said; and Scott clearly didn't care enough to try to show some sort of compassion or respect for Derek's protective nature towards the remains of his family. 

"I'm the executor of the estate," he said. "I know it's not convenient for you, but it's my responsibility."

Scott made a frustrated, growling sort of sound. Derek braced himself for the sensation that came when he, as a beta, disappointed his alpha… 

…but it never came. 

_ "Are you done with Cora?" _

"I can leave in an hour," Derek replied. 

_ "Good. When you get back, come see me. I want to know how patrols have been going and I want to make some changes to the route," _ Scott said. 

Risking a look at Nick, Derek saw the surprise he was feeling reflected on Nick's face. The borders weren't malleable and their patrol routes took anyone along them in a circular loop. He'd already given Nick the routes they usually took---to help plan where and when the college-aged and human members of Nick's pack should drive through town to move Derek's stuff. He didn't like the idea that something may have to change with their plan. 

"Okay. I'll stop in when I get back," Derek said. 

_ "As soon as," _ Scott said.  _ "I have to put in some hours at the shelter tonight." _

Derek bit back a sigh. Then, he replied, "Sure. Will you be at your apartment or---"

_ "The house."  _

At Melissa's house, there was a chance his entourage would be more mundane than supernatural. Derek acquiesced, told Scott he'd leave as soon as he could, and then he ended the call. 

Cora hugged him. "What a jerk," she muttered. 

"I better go get cleaned up and packed," he said. 

Theresa stood up and walked over to them. "Well, let's get some hugs in before you do that," she said as she extended her arms. 

After releasing him, Cora nudged Derek in his side until he stood and hugged Theresa. She squeezed him tightly, offering comfort to him yet again. Derek closed his eyes as he heard the rest of the guests coming closer. 

"Soon, this will be your home," Theresa murmured. 

"I hope so," Derek whispered. 

She slid out of his hold and took his hands in hers. "Remember what I said earlier, okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am." 

She grinned and released him. 

The rest of the pack elders swarmed, stealing hugs and offering sincere words of support. His head was spinning by the time Matty, Yvonne, and Chris were standing in front of him. 

"Thanks for playing soccer on my team," Matty said. 

Derek smiled. "Thanks for not laughing  _ every  _ time I missed the ball," he said. 

"Yvie told me what the alpha said," he continued. "You gonna be okay?" 

Nodding, Derek said, "Yeah. Nothing I can't handle. You want Nick or Cora to let you know when I'm home safe?"

"Yes, please." 

Matty's concern for his well-being left him feeling as if he couldn't quite catch his breath. Derek turned his head and looked at Nick and Cora. Before he could ask, they both nodded and smiled. 

Derek turned back to the kids. He ruffled Matty's hair and pulled him into a loose, one-armed hug. 

"It'll be fine," he murmured. 

Matty nodded. He relaxed his hold on Derek, but he lingered close. Derek remembered how Brandon and Evie, the youngest of his siblings and completely human, grew up with werewolves, and seemed to need physical contact for reassurance almost more than everyone else; he put his hand on the middle of Matty's back as he looked at the teenagers. 

"Thanks for thoroughly kicking my ass at soccer," Derek said, smiling at them. 

After a little laugh, Chris grinned. "No problem," he said. 

He offered Derek a hand; they fell into that half-hug thing that guys did. Yvonne surprised him by jumping and wrapping her arms around his neck. She punctuated her hug with a smacking kiss to his cheek. When they scurried off, taking Matty with them, Derek needed to take a moment and gather himself again before facing Nick and Cora. 

"Go on," Cora said. "I'll come up while you're packing." 

That Nick followed him into the house wasn't a surprise. In the absence of Stiles, Nick had seemingly taken over worrying about Derek's well-being. If he looked past the annoyance of never being alone, he cherished the gift of not being alone. Derek stayed in his thoughts and remained silent as he climbed the stairs and headed to the bedroom he'd come to think of as his. When the door was closed, Nick pulled Derek into a full and firm hug. 

"You okay?" Derek asked. 

Nick patted his back before he pulled away. "Just feeling the alpha vibes," he explained. "Not ready for you to go back." 

A lump settled in Derek's throat and he swallowed against it. He wanted to hold back because of his anxiety and doubt; he wanted to yield and surrender because Nick acted like the type of alpha Derek wanted to follow and because he had a pack that Derek wanted to join. Torn in two, at least emotionally, Derek remained quiet but he reached out and clapped his hand to Nick's arm. 

"I don't want to go back, either," he admitted, "but we have to do it carefully." 

With a nod, Nick smiled a little. "So… you like the pack?" 

"You have good people around you, helping you," Derek said. 

"They are good people. It'll be even better with you here," Nick declared. When Derek's eyebrow arched up, Nick smiled more. "Seriously. I don't ever want to pressure you, but, man, I want someone I know to back me up." 

Derek tilted his head. Nick shrugged. "I always liked the way Dad and Jeremy work together---support each other. Growing up, they were my model for a working pack hierarchy. We're in a big city, so we have more people and we're more separated---so I want the elder system to make sure everyone's taken care of, but I also want family to have my back." 

"Like security?" Derek asked. 

Nick rolled his eyes. "Not like Clay and Jeremy. Like Tonio and Jeremy." 

"But, Cora---" 

"Is my mate," Nick clarified. "She is strong and smart, but she doesn't have a diplomatic bone in her body." 

"I don't think I do, either. Isn't that why you have Stiles?" 

Nick rolled his eyes. "Are you being dumb on purpose?" 

"You want me to be the Antonio to your Jeremy," Derek said, moving away from Nick and heading towards his duffel bag. "I'm not an idiot. I just think you have better options." 

Nick huffed. "And I'm back to thinking you're dumb." 

"Thanks." 

Derek started packing up his clothes, putting his worn clothes into plastic bags he could seal shut to keep the scents of Nick, Cora, Stiles, and the rest of the pack from anyone doing a cursory search of his possessions. He was flattered, but he knew he wasn't the best choice for pack second. He wished Nick would stop trying to convince him to join his pack. He knew he would, probably, despite his fears; he couldn't go anywhere else and still be with his mate. Nick had him and there was no need to sweeten the deal. 

"Well, I can wait on that," Nick said. "Eventually we'll get you to see we don't have a hidden agenda." 

Derek nodded. He couldn't help how he felt, his anxieties and insecurities were practically hardwired into his brain, but he was self-aware enough to know there was a chance it was  _ only _ anxiety and insecurity that made him think and feel as if it were wrong. Talking with Jeremy, Antonio, and Nick had helped soothe his frayed feelings; heading back to Beacon Hills wouldn't help, at all, but he would have time to work on himself and his head before his return to San Francisco. 

"We'll get there," Nick said. He reached out and put his hand on Derek's shoulder. "You're not alone." 

Another swell of emotion lodged itself in Derek's throat. It reminded him of the pack bonds he shared with his family; it was warm, soothing, and firm. He had to push himself to breathe through it. 

He wished Stiles were with them; Stiles would know how to move through the moment, whether emotion or humour was the vehicle for that endeavour. Stiles would be able to diffuse the situation for Derek, who felt certain he didn't have that ability. He had no idea what he should say when Nick continued to look at him with a soft expression on his face. 

Thankfully, Nick seemed fine with Derek's silence. He sat down at the foot of the bed and watched as Derek resumed packing. Anytime they made eye contact, Nick smiled. 

Derek tried to see himself as Nick's second. After being treated poorly by the McCall pack for so long, it was difficult to imagine. As hard as it was to picture, and as terrifying as it was when he did picture it, the idea still gave him hope that he could have a good life. 

#####

After taking solo promotional pictures and video on a very magenta and very glittery set, Stiles was ushered into a cubicle sort of room to wait until it was Stellah's turn to enter the workroom stage. 

They left his bags in the room with him; they were supposed to move them into his station with the rest of his belongings, but Stiles figured that would happen later. He didn't have a clue how reality television was produced, aside from the pieces of information he'd snatched from the contestants he and Nick knew, so he decided to roll with the punches. 

He took advantage of the privacy, adjusting his padding and then touching up his makeup. When he finished with those tasks, he checked his hair. 

As he added a little extra tease and spray to the underside of his hairstyle, he felt something inside him shift. It was a metaphysical shift, not based in his anatomy but in his small spark of magical energy; it was a warmth, not a shock, and it made him think of his pack and his mate. 

He smiled into the feeling. Since he wasn't a werewolf, he didn't have the sense of a pack bond the way they did; however, as the emissary, he could enjoy a faint echo of the connections they shared. They weren't telepathic; their awareness was more empathetic than anything else. Stiles' awareness, if he were among them, was the feeling of not ever being alone---a sort of mental hug. 

Usually, he had to be with them to feel it. He was not going to complain about feeling it then and there. Even if it were an echo conjured by his spark and mind to help him, he embraced it. In new surroundings, where he could see and feel how fake almost everything was, the reminder that he had his pack and mate waiting for him was a treasure. 

The knock on his cubicle's door didn't chase away the feeling, thankfully. 

Stiles opened the door---after a quick check in the mirror to ensure he looked the way he was supposed to look---and saw Ashleigh smiling at him. 

"Ready to go?" 

He nodded. "Sure." 

"Great! So, this time, I'll take you into the tunnel," she explained. "Then, you'll go in and come through the open doors. A camera crew is set up in the room, all over, and you will want to pose and do your thing for the cameras pointed at the door---but please try to ignore the other cameras around the room." 

He nodded again. "Okay."

"Any questions?" 

Stiles gestured at his closed bag and makeup kit. "Do I just leave this stuff here?" 

With a nod of her own, Ashleigh said, "Yes, just leave it. We know who's in each room, and when you start setting up your stations, we'll feed the last bits in." 

"Cool, okay," he said. "I guess I'm ready." 

"Don't be nervous. You look amazing," she murmured. 

Ashleigh put a hand on his arm---or tried to, but when Stiles saw her hand reaching for him, he flinched. 

"I don't like to be touched by strangers," he explained. 

"Well, we'll just have to get to know each other then!" she exclaimed, undaunted by his rejection. 

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes but he had a policy against deliberately angering unknown shapeshifters. So, he clenched his jaw and waited for Ashleigh to focus on her job so he could do his job. 

It seemed he was going to have to wait a few more minutes. 

"Maybe you should put the wolfsbane away," she suggested. "I mean, we're not all humans here. Someone might get the wrong idea." 

"Yeeeah, no," he said. "Sorry, but, anyone sane will understand the squishy, breakable human just wants to try to protect themselves in case of disaster or emergency." 

Ashleigh blinked and opened her mouth, as if to continue arguing (and proving his point), but someone called out for her to bring the next queen through and she looked away from Stiles before complying. She gestured for him to follow her; he obeyed, looking around as much as he could while trying to avoid tripping over cables and other equipment. 

As the workroom set came into view, Stiles' annoyance with Ashleigh faded to the back of his mind. He remembered when he found one of the very few backstage photographs of the room and learned that the walls weren't really walls---and that the mirrors were really two-way glass with a dark observation room on the other side. That knowledge hadn't ruined the show for him, but it had opened his eyes and made him realise that illusions were more a part of the show than he had originally assumed. Seeing it in person brought him back to that memory as a teenager and reminded him of how he'd felt at that age when he was teetering on the precipice of something exciting and  _ just his _ amidst all the werewolf drama. 

Werewolf drama would always follow (or surround) him. But, he had his pack and Derek with him in spirit, and Clay was there with him in person. He wasn't alone; he had found his place in the world. 

It was time to expand that place and test his abilities. 

With each step toward the tunnel, he steeled himself against his nerves and planned his entrance. He didn't have a catchphrase, but he knew how to pose and a friendly, confident greeting never hurt any of the contestants. He could pull it off and survive the first (sort-of) challenge. 

Ashleigh gave him a smile before ushering him to the opening of the short entrance tunnel. He gave her a brief nod, treading the line between not encouraging her and not enraging her as best as he could. Then, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

Beyond the warmth inside him, where his small bit of magical power resided, he could feel his heart pounding. Outside of his body, he could hear the crew moving around; he could also hear voices inside the room. He wouldn't be the first into the room---and that was a relief. 

Whatever happened in the next few minutes would set the stage for the next few days, at least. He didn't care about his characterisation---editors and producers would take care of that, if he got to stay longer than the first episode---but he did care about doing his best and not sucking completely. 

Stiles took in another deep breath, opened his eyes, and started walking towards his future. 


End file.
